by R. J. Blain
“Let’s go to bed,” I said, herding Evelyn out of the cargo bay.
I needed to get her cleared by the Inquisition as quickly as possible, even if it meant having to beat a pardon out of my brother. While I suspected Canada would cooperate, if only to take advantage of the increase of revenue my dealings would bring them, they had limits on what they would tolerate. The United States did as well, but neither country crossed the Inquisition lightly.
Supernatural killings weren’t taken lightly by either country and until she was cleared, she’d be at risk.
I drew a deep breath to calm my nerves. There’d be time enough for a trip to Ottawa. First, I needed to get Evelyn to Yellowknife. After that, I had plans to find who had killed my daughter and deal with them permanently. Once those two all-important tasks were completed, I would worry about staying on the right side of the law.
~~*~~
I spent the rest of the cruise cooped up in my stateroom with Evelyn, learning everything I could about the pair of blood-red stones. Within their depths were the names of almost two thousand dead, the vast majority of them older teenagers. My anger swelled as the hours ticked by. I delved deeper into the limited data I had from the Canadians. The Inquisition files on most of the victims were barren, leaving me with a frustrating tangle of tidbits.
Through it all, Evelyn watched with quiet interest, sitting on the couch beside me. When she ran her hand over my leg, I paused from my data mining to look at her. “What is it?”
“Is this your regular job?” she asked, pointing at the database I was populating with information.
While she seemed relaxed, I was aware of her tension and worry, which baffled me. I stared at her, trying to figure out what was concerning her. When I failed, I replied, “No, it’s not. Officially, I’m a consultant. Businesses and governments hire me to look over their setups and advise them on how to tighten their operations.”
“But you’re also a smuggler.”
“I am. There are several different types of smugglers in the world, Evelyn. I’m one of the good guys—so far as we go. I’m sanctioned; that means I play the game by the rules of several governments, running my operations right under their noses. They know I’m there, and they choose to ignore me. They’re paid a fee to look the other way. The consulting work is legitimate business, too. When I’m not helping them streamline their operations, I’m running operations. Sometimes they’re one and the same, especially when government work is involved. I keep my work clean, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Evelyn sighed and leaned against me, capturing my hand in hers so she could rub her thumbs against my palm. “What do you mean by clean?”
“I don’t work with terrorists, the mafia, drug rings, or anything deemed taboo. While I have sources in shadier areas, I can’t risk losing my sanctions. Canada is one of my best partners, and their tolerance for such things is pretty low. The United States is willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things compared to Canada. Right now, if Canada wants something from the United States under the table, they hire me. I consult for them, usually cleaning up one of their smaller offices in the process, which gives me a cover so I can smuggle in what they need. It’s a good arrangement for everyone.”
“Why do it at all? Can’t they handle their own shipments? Isn’t smuggling dangerous?”
“I make the arrangements. People I work with or hire run the actual operations. They do what I tell them, and things usually run smoothly. Sometimes I do the actual transaction myself, but I have people like Zachary who do the heavy lifting. I’m the top of the chain, so I am the one they want to catch—if they find out I’m around. I try to avoid that. Anyway, it lets me help my brother, for one. For two, it’s a challenge, and I like it. I also work with Richard’s pack. I supply things he needs for his Fenerec. I started working with him when I was ten, doing the dirty work for my father and the Inquisition. They decided if I wasn’t going to be eliminated as an inconvenient liability, I needed to be a useful risk worth keeping around.”
The only time my father or mother had acknowledged my existence was when they needed me to run some operation or another for the Inquisition—or when they checked in to make sure I hadn’t outlived my usefulness. While my father had given me my watch and was behind the Jag, I considered them momentary lapses in my father’s judgment and common sense.
Evelyn frowned before lifting my hand to kiss my palm. “You don’t have a very good relationship with your family, do you?”
“I’d call that the understatement of the year, I’m afraid,” I replied.
Letting me go, she turned her attention to the laptop. “Can I help?”
I cocked my head to the side and watched her, thinking it over for a few minutes. I worked with a lot of people all around the world, far too much work for any one man. Zachary and Brandon helped a lot, but I didn’t have a right hand man or woman to help keep things running smoothly. All of the responsibility fell to me. After being unable to come up with a single legitimate reason to exclude Evelyn from my work, I replied, “Sure. I can start training you once we’re in Yellowknife. It’s something we’ll have to work at, to see just what you’re good at. I’ll have to make a few secure calls as well, if I want to bring you into the loop.”
“I’m good at a lot of things,” she murmured.
“There are a lot of things you’re good at,” I agreed, making a grab at her to pull her across my lap. With a giggle, she snuggled against me. “You’ll be good at this line of work. If I could find excuses to hire more Fenerec, I would. I’ve seen Richard play the game a few times, and he’s good at it. He loves it; says it’s a satisfying hunt when he wins. He makes it a point to win often. That’s why he handles the Inquisition’s finances. Since he holds their purse, I end up working together with him quite often.”
“You two are old friends.”
“Yeah, we are. I still remember the first time I talked to him on the phone. I didn’t understand why people seemed so afraid of him then, and I still don’t understand it now. He’s a great guy. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have at my back,” I confessed.
“What about me?” Evelyn replied, pouting at me.
“I can think of a lot better places I’d rather have you,” I replied, kissing her forehead.
“Pervert.”
“With you, guilty as charged.”
She laughed. “It’s because you’re dominant, Jackson.”
“I’m not a Fenerec,” I reminded her. “And I hope it doesn’t disappoint you too much that I have no intentions of becoming one.”
Shaking her head, Evelyn replied, “That has nothing to do with it. You’re not afraid of him because you’re his equal. It’s established. You don’t have to prove anything to him, and he doesn’t have to prove anything to you. You don’t want his position, and he doesn’t want yours. You’re not a threat. If he needs to lower his eyes to you, he loses nothing.”
“We’re partners. That is how it works. There are times he sends me backpedaling.”
“That’s not how it works with Fenerec. We don’t enjoy that with many people. It’s always one contest or another. You’re outside of that. You’re like a rock or the ground. You’re something solid he—and I—can stand on. You’re also a witch. You embody stability. You’re dominant, but you can be trusted.”
“You, my dear, are supposed to rely on me for anything you need,” I pointed out.
“You’re not Richard’s mate,” she countered. “I’m right, and you’ll just have to accept that.”
Laughing at her brisk tone, I gave her a hug. “I’ll take your word for it.”
While I was used to getting what I wanted, I hadn’t put much thought into it. My job involved people doing what I told them. It kept them safe while working for me. They knew it, and they knew I did my best for anyone running an operation for me. It was the way I handled things. Her words did make me rethink my reactions to the Fenerec Inquisitors. I had assumed my standing
with the team had been due to my being behind the wheel and driving fast enough to unnerve them. Did their claims of my dominance somehow factor into their behavior?
I didn’t feel very dominant, all things considered. If there had been any tests or challenges, I hadn’t noticed them.
When I told them of my intentions, they hadn’t questioned my authority, although they had been shocked at my ready defiance of my twin’s orders. Older brothers did that. I grinned, and unable to help myself, I asked, “Does that mean I can dominate you?”
She laughed. “Do I get a turn dominating you?”
“For some reason, I think I could live with that… somehow. It’ll be a burden,” I teased.
“Poor man, having to submit. I’ll make certain you survive the experience… somehow.”
“That sounds promising.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that right now.” Evelyn peered at the laptop’s clock. “We’ll be reaching port soon.”
I sighed, and working around Evelyn, I saved my work and shut the laptop down. “You’re right, as always. I wonder if we can just hide in here. I’m not looking forward to this.”
For the next stage of the plan to work, I would spend the next several hours pretending to be my brother, complete with carrying fake copies of his ID and passport. While there were those who knew I was still alive, it was something my twin wanted to keep under wraps until I was in Yellowknife.
“It’s only for a little while,” she soothed, sliding off of my lap to retrieve the laptop bag.
“I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” I muttered. Pretending to be cozy with my brother’s woman was one of the last things I wanted to do. Vicky seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t my Fenerec.
“Vicky isn’t interested in you. She’s as unhappy about things as you are. From my understanding, she came along to keep Elliot company, not his lookalike.”
“Have they dealt with their little issue?”
“Little?” Heading to the closet, Evelyn pulled out the suit tailored to match my brother’s favored style. She sighed. “Of course they haven’t. That would be the wise thing to do. Vicky’s adamant that she has a boyfriend and is just friends with your brother. She’s refusing to acknowledge the mating bond, though I doubt the poor woman would recognize it for what it was even if it grew arms and beat her over the head with a bat. She’s positively dense, Jackson. Sweet, but absolutely dense. Your twin, on the other hand, is still caught up in the Inquisition’s rules and at a complete loss over what to do about it. They’re hopeless.”
“Wonderful. And anyway, give them time to think things through. That said, I’ll ask Zachary to do some digging into Vicky’s boyfriend, then.”
“Oh?”
“If he’s not above meddling with my affairs, I certainly am not above meddling in his. The last thing I need is some angry other man coming around after my brother.” Rising from the couch, I claimed my suit from Evelyn and headed to the bedroom. The classic cut could make any man look good, but I preferred something a little more modern. Elliot wore cotton shirts, where I liked silk, which only made me keenly aware that I was trying to be someone I simply wasn’t and could never be. At least our tastes in ties overlapped.
To complete my disguise, there was even a replica of my brother’s watch, which was similar in style to the one I had broken in Oconee. Finding room for two passports, two wallets, and my twin’s cell phone proved problematic. The final touch to my outfit, at the suggestion of Dr. Cerimino, was the leather pouch containing the smaller of the two blood-red gems. It was attached to a leather cord, and I wore it beneath my shirt. I don’t know what sort of magic the witch had worked on the leather, but I couldn’t hear the whispers of the dead despite the stone’s proximity. However, I could still feel the warmth of my daughter’s ghost lingering within me.
“I feel like I need a purse to carry all of this junk,” I complained.
“You can use mine.”
“Cute, Evelyn. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. Your purse of choice today happens to be pink, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I bet you’d make a pink silk shirt look sexy,” she countered.
I laughed. “I might have one or two in my closet somewhere.”
“Really?”
“Sure, I have a few gray suits that look good with the color. I might be a troglodyte male, but I have style.”
Arching a brow at me, she grabbed a dress bag from the closet. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. You don’t own a pink shirt.”
“Okay, fine. It’s more of a lavender. Not quite as offensive as that bright neon pink bag you’ve been toting around.”
“I’ll be taking the white purse, if you must know.”
I eyed the pink purse, wondering how much trouble I’d get into if I chucked it overboard. “The white one’s nice. That pink color should be illegal.”
“Touch the purse and you will regret it, Jackson.”
Grinning, I finished getting dressed and packed up the room while Evelyn changed. When she emerged, she was wearing the slinky white dress, which had somehow survived its dunking into the jacuzzi unscathed. She struck a pose, showing off a lot of leg and making me wish we had more time.
“There should be a law against anyone other than me getting such a nice look at those pretty legs,” I murmured.
“Hey, the dress was your idea.”
I chuckled and went to fetch the white heels that went with the gown. “With so many busy looking at you, no one is going to take a second look at me.”
“That was the entire point, dear. And give your brother credit. The shoes were all on him. Even Vicky’s wearing them. With us having three extra inches, no one should realize you’re as tall as you are.”
“I’m buying him stilts,” I grumbled. “Maybe I should take him to a medieval torture chamber and stretch a few extra inches into him. He’s stunted, obviously.”
“Be nice. Are you ready?”
I sighed and made my rounds through the stateroom. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Let’s go and get this over with, then. Remember, you like Vicky, not me.”
“I’ll pretend to like Vicky, while secretly lusting for my brother’s beautiful woman,” I countered.
“You’re hopeless.”
~~*~~
I didn’t know the two Inquisitors serving as my bodyguards. They were polite, greeting me with a salute. I kept quiet, answering their courtesy with a nod. The limo wasn’t parked far from the Wave Dream. Vicky, dressed in a beat-up trench coat and ratty jeans, beat us all to the limo and let herself in, followed by Evelyn and Richard. I ended up seated next to the Alpha Fenerec.
The two young men serving as my guards didn’t look too happy about that. One sat on my other side, and the other took the seat beside Evelyn. It was hard not to glare at the younger man. I wanted to gouge out the eyes of the men gawking at Evelyn. She was radiant, and when she smiled, I had to force myself to look elsewhere or betray my interest and affection for her.
“I’m really sorry about your brother. He was a good man,” Richard said for the benefit of the bugs likely installed throughout the limo.
“Thank you. He was,” I replied as my brother had instructed me. “I appreciate you allowing me to look through your correspondence.”
“If it helps you catch those responsible, I’m pleased to offer my records.”
I nodded. “Let’s hope we find something.”
It was a thirty-minute drive to the airport, one spent in uncomfortable silence, another detail the Inquisition expected. While Richard liked my twin and me, he treated the rest of the Inquisition with the same caution most men reserved for spiders, snakes, scorned women, and angry bears. Richard wasn’t at fault; I understood what it felt like to be in the Inquisition’s sights. Nicole was Richard’s world, and the Inquisition kept looking for reasons to get rid of her.
Like me, she had unwanted, inconvenient powers.
I didn’t talk to her on the phone often, but I liked her. While she didn’t know the nature of my witchcraft, our situations weren’t too different. We had an understanding.
At the airport, Richard took the lead, guiding me to a charcoal Cessna TTx that looked brand new. It had a silver running stripe, which gave it a bit of charm without taking away from its elegance. The four-seater waited with its engine running. While Richard spent a few minutes doing a walk around the plane and speaking to the ground crew, I leaned against the body. The two Inquisitors helped the ladies board, which involved a stepladder and walking on the wing to access the doors.
Since my brother wasn’t a pilot, I feigned disinterest as I waited.
“Everything looks in order,” Richard said before climbing in. I followed his example, taking the co-pilot’s seat. At least my brother had assured me he’d flown in enough planes to know how to buckle the three-point harness. The ground crew closed the doors, thumping the side of the plane to signal the all clear. I put on my headset and tuned it to the airport’s channel, listening to the chatter as I did my own review of the instrumentation. While it was tempting to poke around on the touch-screen navigation system, I shoved my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t betray my knowledge or curiosity.
Within ten minutes, we were in the air. Richard tapped my headset to catch my attention. I switched to the plane’s private communication system.
“We’ll be refueling in Shawinigan before crossing into Ontario,” he said, tapping to a zoomed out map, gesturing to the town. “This bird has long range for a single engine. You’re qualified for night flying, right?”
“Unfortunately. It’s not my favorite thing in the world,” I confessed.
“Too bad. You’re taking over in Ontario when we refuel the second time.”