Demon Accords 10: Rogues

by John Conroe

  Watson is, how you might say—my bitch.

  “See this is what happens when teens raise babies,” she said, although her hand was covering her mouth so he couldn’t see her smile.

  “Listen, I’ve wanted to tell you about this for months, but Omega felt uncertain. But he’s decided you should know and he also thinks you’ve been figuring it out on your own.”

  “He’s right,” she said. “And I’m glad he decided he could trust me.”

  “Oh come on? Omega… what have I been saying about Stacia this whole time?”

  That she should have my trust.

  “Thank you,” he said, turning his eyes back to hers.

  “He’ll probably say anything you asked him to,” she said, suspicious but still mildly touched.

  Not true. Not about this.

  “He’s pretty much his own being in every way,” Declan said.

  “And you’re a proud papa, aren’t you?” she guessed.

  He shrugged but grinned. “How many people have welcomed a new being to the planet that wasn’t born from a womb.”

  I was born in a computer womb.

  “Was that a joke?” she said. “Computer room—womb?”

  “We’re working on it. Let’s collect some hair and get on with this search. Omega has been looking through records both here and in Fetter, checking power usage and cellular traffic, that kind of thing. We’ll try my witchy way, then compare notes with him. After that, we can check with Buck’s group.”

  “Alright. Let’s go pluck some were hairs and we can maybe yank one from that female were I choked out,” she said.

  Facial features match Maine DMV license photograph for Karen Lyon.

  “Thank you, Omega,” she said, eyes slightly wide.

  You are welcome, Miss Stacia.

  “That’s going to take some getting used to. I’ll need my own Bluetooth,” she said.

  “He can speak to you through your phone and you can have the volume so low, only a were can hear it,” Declan suggested.

  True, Omega said in a tiny voice from her pocket. Declan didn’t react, so she knew he hadn’t heard it.

  “Omega, we could tell secrets about Declan and he wouldn’t know,” she said with a smirk.

  I will never betray my father.

  “Whoa, it was just a joke. I wouldn’t ask you to ever do anything to hurt Declan. It was just kind of a tease,” she said, her mouth forming a silent “Oh shit.”

  “We’re working on nuance in human communications. He gets it mostly but doesn’t see the point,” Declan said. “He’s read everything, watched everything, and listened to everything, so he’s got lots to work from, but the purpose of teasing holds no logic for him.”

  “Everything?”

  “Everything on any computer he can get to. I think that covers almost everything except little Sallie Anne Everygirl’s personal diary in East Bumfuck, Iowa.”

  Sallie Anne keeps her diary on her cell phone.

  “Who is Sallie Anne?” Stacia asked.

  “Nobody. A fictitious entity. Omega was making another joke,” Declan said.

  Declan is using the name Sallie Anne to reference the ubiquitous every girl of modern times, although she would likely be a teenager and a citizen of the United States.

  “Okay, this definitely takes some getting used to,” she said.

  “You’ll adapt. Let’s go get that hair,” he said.

  Chapter 22

  A large black tractor trailer had appeared in the parking lot behind the sheriff’s office. The Blackhawk, which had flown away after dropping Stacia and the others off, was now back and sitting dead center of the large asphalt space. A forklift hummed as it offloaded the dead werewolves from the helicopter and moved them to the trailer, its headlamps backlighting the steaming bodies.

  Battle-dressed agents with assault rifles blocked them from getting near the bodies, which might have been a problem except Declan just made a small motion and a clump of fur pulled free from the wolf on the forklift’s tines. He repeated it with the headless body already in the back of the truck and the one still on the helicopter.

  The agents looked a bit wild-eyed at the free-floating fur, unsure of what to do. One came forward a bit aggressively, but Stacia held up one palm.

  “Watchlist, remember?”

  He came to a halt, indecisive for a moment before turning away in frustration.

  “That witchy stuff is handy,” she admitted to Declan as they took the fur to the back of his green Toyota Land Cruiser, which he called Beast. He spoke four words in what might have been Gaelic and waved his hands through a series of motions.

  “Beast is warded. Works way better than an alarm system. It fights back,” he said. “To do this right, we should get the female were’s hair, too. Problem is, we don’t know where she is,” he said, opening the driver’s door and retrieving a large disposable cup with a fat straw stuck in it.

  “You,” she said. “You don’t know where she is. I do,” she said, tapping the side of her nose. She pointed at the sheriff’s office. “Plus, they brought her in right behind me. I think they put her in a storage room in the back, still naked, I believe.”

  He handed her the large cup. “Vanilla shake. I only took a couple of sips.”

  Her nose had already told her stomach what to expect and it growled in response as she slurped the thick, rich shake. She was down a lot of calories from the battle, despite the cold ziti, and the shake tasted amazing. Several seconds later, the straw made empty sucking sounds and she sadly conceded that it was gone.

  “That’s a bit better,” she said.

  “All righty then. Let’s go pluck some hair,” he said, grinning and rubbing his hands together.

  “I’ll do the plucking. I recall that you get easily distracted by naked women,” she said.

  “Just one naked woman, Stacia, just one,” he said, heading toward the building.

  She snorted. “Smooth talker.”

  My father ignores all the other females. Even the ones who show up at his room, underdressed, her phone whispered. Declan didn’t show any sign of hearing it.

  Hmm, interesting information. She hadn’t realized the extent the witches were throwing themselves at him, or that he was so uninterested in them. And why did Omega offer up that tidbit?

  A camera on a light pole at the corner of the building turned on its mount, the red power light gleaming like an eye as it pointed at them… at her.

  Faithfulness is valued, is it not? Omega asked in super quiet tones. Declan was in front, so she just nodded at the camera.

  You questioned his faithfulness. He is unusual for males his age, isn’t he?

  Definitely. Understatement. She nodded again.

  “I can’t hear the words, but I can sense the messages flowing. Are you two talking about me?” Declan asked suddenly, without turning around.

  Yes, Father. I was confirming your ability to ignore undressed females with the exception of Miss Stacia.

  “Oh. Well thank you, Omega, for sticking up for me,” he said, opening the door and holding it for her. She gave him a smirk as she went by.

  The station was still a beehive of activity, but a lot of faces glanced their way and stayed watching them. Two burly guards in combat uniforms stood outside a door marked Supplies. They headed that way.

  “Hi. We need to pull a few strands of hair from the prisoner for forensic comparison,” Stacia said with a brilliant smile, focusing on one guard. The other guard looked annoyed, maybe at being ignored.

  “We can’t let you in,” the annoyed one said. The first one looked a little stunned by the smile. She turned to the annoyed one and frowned in a distressed way. It was almost as devastating.

  “We told Agent Adler we would track down the rest of the werewolves. We need her hair,” she explained earnestly, like it was only reasonable.

  “How does hair track someone down?” the other guard thought to ask, looking like he wanted to be of help.

&nbs
p; “Witch,” she said, pointing at Declan.

  “Huh?” the second one asked.

  “Just let her in, Nick. She’s the one that captured the suspect in the first place,” the first said. Both guards ignored Declan like he wasn’t there. It was a common occurrence around Stacia and men.

  The second guard unlocked the door, which was just a flimsy interior door, and stood aside to watch as she entered. Declan slipped between them and moved to one corner of the little space, where he could provide his own brand of help if it was needed.

  The girl was lying on the floor, trussed up but with a blanket thrown over her. A set of prisoner coveralls lay on the floor next to her.

  “You fellas know how to treat a girl,” Stacia said, giving them a look. They shrugged.

  The were girl turned her head so she could see Stacia and then glared at her.

  “Look, Karen, you attacked me, remember? But hey, I’m willing to help you get dressed if you like, but you’ll have to behave or we’ll leave you naked,” Stacia said.

  The girl’s silent snarl slid away as she thought it over. Then she glanced at Declan and the guards, looking shy.

  Stacia snorted. “Please. As if you haven’t been naked in front of males a whole lot since you Changed. They stay. And that one, in the corner? He’s like your Alpha’s young girlfriend. Only much, much scarier,” she said, pointing at Declan.

  “Male witches aren’t that tough,” the girl said, although she didn’t sound certain.

  Declan held one hand out, palm up, and called a ball of electricity into place above it. He held up the other hand and a ball of primordial fire flared into life.

  “If I burn your brain from the inside out, there will be quite literally steam coming out your ears… and nose and mouth. Do exactly as she says, when she says, how she says, and not a sliver less or more,” he said in a reasonable tone that was perhaps scarier then a menacing one would have been.

  “Shit,” Guard Two said. They weren’t ignoring him now.

  Stacia pointed at the silver strand cable tie that held Karen’s feet to her hands. The fire and ball of lightning disappeared and Declan twitched his right-hand fingers just a bit.

  The ratchet that held the cable tie shut suddenly released and the cable came off. Stacia lifted Karen to her feet without effort, then pointed at the girl’s feet. The other tie let loose so she could stand easier.

  The picture of Karen Lyon that Stacia had seen before had shown a shy-looking, mousy girl. The new Karen was nothing like that. Her face and body were much harder looking, taut with muscle and completely devoid of fat. In fact, Stacia could just about tell the second that the two guards stopped guarding and just leered. Declan, on the other hand, was watching the girl’s eyes, and his right hand shimmered with waves of heat. Karen smiled at the guards but absolutely refused to look at Declan.

  Smiling to herself, Stacia moved around behind the girl and pulled the coveralls open, holding them for her feet.

  Karen didn’t move her feet when prodded, her gaze still locked on the two guards. Stacia sighed and glanced at Declan. He curled two fingers of his left hand and Karen rose six inches into the air. Her smile disappeared and her head flicked around to Declan. His right hand still shimmered with heat.

  “Hold very still, Karen. If I think you’re resisting, I’ll just smash your head into that outside block wall a few times till it cracks or you get knocked out,” Declan said conversationally.

  Stacia slipped the legs of the coveralls over Karen’s feet, then paused to rezip the cable tie around her feet. Karen remained floating as Stacia pulled the cloth up to her waist. At her nod, Declan released the other zip tie and Stacia had the uniform up and over Karen’s arms in a couple of seconds, moving smoothly.

  She refastened Karen’s arms in the front and then she zipped up the coverall. Only then did Declan put the girl back down on her feet.

  The whole time she’d been floating, Karen had been watching Declan, her face a tightly held mask of absolute terror.

  Task accomplished, Stacia pushed the girl back down to a sitting position and used the first twist tie to fasten her arms to a convenient fire sprinkler pipe in the corner. Then she casually plucked a small clump of hair, maybe nine or ten strands, from Karen’s head and handed them to Declan.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’m going to keep one of these in case you do anything crazy like try to escape. That way I can… stop you. From anywhere.” He left the room, Guards One and Two moving quickly out of his way. Stacia gave them another smile and walked out after him. As she approached the back door to the station, she could hear them talking behind her.

  “No wonder he’s on that list—that was the scariest shit I’ve ever seen,” Guard Two said.

  “No shit. He terrifies werewolves,” Guard One agreed.

  Outside, Declan headed for his vehicle, opening Beast’s tailgate and putting two of the strands of hair with the clumps of were fur. He rolled up the heavy plastic liner that covered the cargo area, revealing a circle, about a foot and a half in diameter, precisely painted on the metal floor in gold paint. Next he opened a computer bag and pulled out a large tablet, laying it in the middle of the circle. It turned itself on and a map of the area came up.

  Declan, in the meantime, had pulled a Swiss Army knife from his jeans pocket and was clipping little pieces of fur and hair onto the tablet’s screen with the fold-out scissors. About two snips of hair or fur for each sample, speaking soft words in Gaelic as he did so, piling one sample in each corner of the tablet. Satisfied with the result, he glanced her way.

  “What are you grinning about?” he asked.

  “You—cutting hair and fur with scissors,” she said. “It’s just kind of funny. Moments ago, you were wielding flame and bottled lightning, levitating naked girls, and then here you are clipping tiny hairs with a pocket knife.”

  “You shouldn’t mock a geek’s tool,” he said, instant realization flooding across his face as the words left his mouth.

  Her eyebrows had already risen. “Really? I don’t recall mocking your tool,” she said suggestively.

  He blushed. Kid could knock down a house but he was blushing at the wordplay. His expression smoothed out and his own eyebrow lifted. “Good, because I have complete confidence in my, um, hardware,” he said.

  Double entendre, right? Omega asked through the earpiece. This is flirtation, correct?

  Declan froze up.

  “Yes, Omega. It’s flirtation,” Stacia said. “Now, what’s going on with the fur bits?”

  Still distracted and glancing at her, Declan reached a finger down and touched the edge of the circle. Something snapped, spark-ish, and the air was suddenly charged with static.

  “Some good old sympathetic magic using a new kind of map. Some practitioners use a pendulum over a map. Others will create a kind of pointer or compass guide. I call this spell Magnetic Table. Like those play tables for kids with the magnets underneath that you move around to change the metal filings. What I’m doing is sorta activating the hair and fur’s natural attraction for itself,” he said, waving a hand over the tablet top and whispering another word, “Teacht.”

  “That means…” she asked.

  “Find, in Gaelic,” he answered as they both watched the hairs creep around the map.

  “I don’t get it. The bodies with all the fur are in the truck and the girl is in the room… shouldn’t we get a reading for just that?” she asked.

  “Great point. I didn’t explain that very well at all,” he said. “I should have said that the hairs will seek out other hairs and since I’ve cast the spell to ignore the bodies and the girl in the building, they’ll go to the next biggest source. Kind of like when you find the tare weight of the dish on the scale and subtract it when you’re weighing powders or liquids.”

  “Which would be their lair? What about their homes… their old homes?”

  He pointed at the tablet. All four samples headed north on the map, sliding eerily toward
Fetter. The map scale changed on its own and she didn’t know if that was Declan or Omega doing it. The immediate area around Fetter grew larger, and additional detail appeared on the screen. The hair and fur particles formed into tight little bundles around the map, but in one spot, they all commingled and circled up.

  “That’s a big area of town. Doesn’t it focus any tighter?” she asked, pointing at the circle. The individual clumps were probably the individual weres’ old homes, she thought.