She curled her top lip in disgust, remembering that. Magi didn’t have Miranda rights, or the First Amendment, or anything like that. Well, they did have their own version of the First Amendment, but the point was that they were treated differently, regardless of where they were born. She was an American citizen, but she was also a Magi.
The Magi part was the one that mattered. If they had known she was Shadow, she would have been captured, collared, thrown into a cell where the sun doesn’t shine. No one would have spoken out for her, and there would have been no trial, no mandatory state provided attorney, no chance to plead her case. Magi weren’t give such luxuries. The WMC claimed it was because Magi were held to higher standard. She thought it was because they liked absolute control.
“Criminals,” he muttered, watching her expression. “Deal with it. We could have thrown you in jail and said it was to protect you. Instead, we were keeping you alive and free.”
“You are putting me in a bigger cage,” she told him with a glare. “That’s not free.” She stood up once the seat belt light turned off. “Now, if that’s everything, I’m going to go sit somewhere else.”
“Fine,” he watched her carefully, and she walked away without another word. She found an empty section and hunkered down for the trip. She didn’t know how long it was going to be, so she did her best to stay awake. This was going to be a long few months. Well, she thought, it had better be only a few months.
She kept track of how long the flight lasted. Between two and three hours could put her in a thousand places. She felt the wheels touch down and the jet slow. She could have looked out the window, she knew that, but she wanted her feet on the ground and to breath the air.
“Let’s go,” Vincent called to them once the jet crawled to a stop. The door popped open, and a staircase was brought over as she walked to rest of the group.
“Welcome back to Atlanta, Sawyer.” Zander grinned at her before pushing her out into the hot, humid air. Damn it all to hell.
She felt the July heat seep into her bones, but all she felt was a chill run down her spine. Whatever tiny shred of good mood she had was leaving quickly. She stomped down the steps and was immediately stopped by another agent, one she didn’t recognize.
“Sawyer Matthews?” He asked her, chewing on something as he took in her face. His tone was rude and condescending.
“Yeah, what of it?” She snapped back.
“I’m Special Agent Jon Aguirre.” He held out a hand, but she only looked down at it. Was he stupid? She wasn’t shaking hands with a Magi until she knew all their abilities. Even then, she probably still wouldn’t have shaken it.
“Nice to meet you.” She looked back up and met his eyes. She took a moment to take in the scene. This Jon and the agents around him were older, probably in their forties or fifties. IMPO teams tended to stick together for decades, that much she knew, so this group must have been around the block a few times.
“I’m here to tell you that if you screw up with Vinny’s team, you will be coming to us. We wanted to get eyes on you, and for you to get eyes on us.” He smiled but there wasn’t much kindness in it. She raised an eyebrow as Vincent stepped up to her side. “Right, Vinny? Are you excited to finally have a chance at-”
“Jon is an experienced IMPO agent,” Vincent cut in. Sawyer frowned and looked at him. He was glaring at the older man, who looked pleased with himself. There was some bad blood here. “If we can’t handle keeping you safe or out of trouble, you will need to go into his care.”
“Sawyer,” Jasper walked to her other side. “You are better off with us. Let’s go so Vincent and Elijah can deal with them.”
“What is his problem?” she asked him as they walked away. Jon was watching her leave, and she flipped him off, making him go beet-red with anger. He started ranting to Vincent, who just stood there and took it.
“He’s a prick, and we’re a young team with a bit of a reputation. We’re the only two teams in the Southeast with Special Agent classification. The closest other team to us is by New York. Normally, it takes nearly a decade for an IMPO team to rise high enough to start taking the hard jobs, but we got it about 3 years ago.”
“What’s so important about that?” She frowned. “And how did you get it so young, if it’s so hard?”
“Special Agents work globally. We’re tasked with taking on the most dangerous Magi on the planet, whereas regular agents and detectives handle smaller crimes in their designated areas. We also get paid a pretty penny due to the danger of job,” Jasper was talking his hands and Sawyer put some distance between them to avoid getting smacked on accident. Wouldn’t be the first time Jasper had whacked her while he rambled. “I’m talking Legends, and serial killers that work through multiple countries. Crime lords like Axel.”
“And-” She tried to cut in, but failed. Jasper was explaining something, and nothing would stop him now. Sawyer remembered the important rule of never asking him for an explanation.
“We got the promotion when another team on the East Coast was completely wiped out. The team tried to make a deal with Shadow to take down Axel. We were brought up because the IMPO and the WMC realized that the only person who has any chance of taking down Axel is Vincent. He put this entire team together for that purpose.” Jasper took a breath. “You haven’t met him yet, but Quinn is our final member. With him, we have someone with control over each element. Most teams don’t take the time to round out their members like Vincent did. It helps that we all get along but-”
“Okay, Jasper.” She held up her right hand. She didn’t need to hear anymore. “I get it.”
Jesus. No wonder Vincent wanted her around so bad. He clearly was obsessed with Axel, which was the last thing she wanted. He was going to be on her ass constantly until she could truly convince him that she didn’t know anything. If Axel found her giving secrets over to an IMPO team again, they would all die. Again.
With Jasper and Zander involved… she couldn’t let that happen. She hadn’t run to them years earlier so they wouldn’t get caught in her mess. And now here she was, wondering how to keep them out of it, even though they had to go and join a team dedicated to taking Axel down.
It didn’t help that they got the job because of her last fuck up. She had contacted the team to strike the deal that would get her out of Axel’s control. She had so desperately needed to get out. Axel had found out, and, not only did he kill the team, but he had also nearly killed her. He thought he actually had.
Trying a second time would only lead to even more of a nightmare.
She shook her head slowly, closing her eyes as she tried to push back the memories. No, she couldn’t let them get killed. Fuck her freedom. No one else was dying for her like that again, especially not Jasper and Zander. She needed to fall in line and keep her mouth shut if she wanted to keep them alive.
“You okay?” Jasper asked quietly. She reopened her eyes and nodded.
“Yeah, just not used to this heat anymore.” She smiled at him, hoping he bought the lie.
In the twelve or so hours she had been in their ‘custody’ she had lied more than she had told the truth. She didn’t need them in her shadows, and she was going to do her damn best to keep them out.
“Sure,” he mumbled, opening the door of the truck they had arrived at. “You’re riding back with Elijah. The rest of us are taking a Range Rover.”
“Why?” She frowned.
“Because none of us like being the same vehicle with Elijah for nearly four hours. That’s why he gets to bring his truck. But we don’t let anyone travel alone, so you are riding with him.”
“Why doesn’t anyone like riding with Elijah?” She asked cautiously.
“You’ll see.” Jasper smiled and turned away from her. “There he is now. See you back at the house.”
He left her as Elijah climbed into the driver’s seat. She didn’t like the grin he wore.
“My baby, I missed you,” he purred to the steering wheel. “Ready to head
to your new home?”
“Sure.” She watched him warily. He started it up, and she immediately realized why no one drove with him. His foot hit the gas and he released the clutch, forcing the manual truck into second without it stalling. Holy shit, he drove like a mad man.
“Hold on,” he grinned at her. “Awesome thing about being in the IMPO? No one is going to pull me over.”
“Oh, fuck.” She grabbed the ‘oh, shit’ bar and began praying. She didn’t know who she was praying to, but surely there had to be one god keeping an eye on her, right?
He had them on good old Interstate 285 in a minute, where she watched cars get lost in the dust behind them.
“How fucking fast are you going?” She screamed, seeing her life pass before her eyes. It wasn’t that she hated speed. She loved going fast in her car or on her bike, but she had no control here. She didn’t trust other drivers, and now Elijah was going to give her a damn heart attack as he wove through traffic.
“About a hundred and forty,” he laughed. “This baby has nitrous too, if you want-”
“No!” she yelled. “Are you fucking mad? Look at this traffic!” He grinned at her as she yelled. “Keep your fucking eyes on the road!”
Four hours? Hell, they would be where ever they are going in three tops with how fast he was going. She felt her hand cramp on the bar after ten minutes, and looked up at it. Her knuckles were white, and her palm was sweaty.
“Can you not kill me today? I’ve worked really hard to stay among the living for several years.” She was getting clammy.
“You ride a motorcycle,” Elijah continued to laugh. “I don’t see why this such a problem for you.”
“I’m in control of my motorcycle,” she growled. “I also keep it under a hundred and twenty. I feel like your truck it about to take to the fucking air.”
“It has never left the road, and I’ve gotten it to about two hundred.” Elijah chuckled, but she noticed he slowed down. “Turn on the radio and take a nap.”
She wasn’t going to be able to sleep while he was behind the wheel.
“You didn’t drive like this in New York,” she mumbled.
“Well, I don’t know the roads there well enough. And it wasn’t my truck.”
“Do you race this thing?” She clicked through the stations. She caught a glimpse of his speedometer and sighed happily. He was back down to one hundred miles an hour. That shouldn’t have pleased her, but it really did.
“Yeah,” Elijah grinned at her. “Once a month, if I can pull it off. All legal, of course.”
“Of course,” she muttered under her breath.
They spent the rest of the ride in silence, and she wondered what she would find at their home. She also wanted to know who this mysterious Quinn was. She heard them reference him more than a few times, but only Jasper really told her anything. Earth manipulation, the final of the four elements that Vincent had stacked onto the team.
“We’re here,” Elijah whispered to her. She blinked and wondered when she had fallen asleep. “Take a look.”
She blinked several more times, clearing her eyes. When she could focus, she took in the large, white, old home. It was an old plantation house, or something based on that style. Large pillars held up a balcony coming from the second floor, which provided shade for the wrap around porch on the first. Large windows in the front gave her a view of the dining room, kitchen, and living room. She didn’t need to step inside to realize that while the outside looked old, the inside had been modernized. A new addition had obviously been built, as well: a garage that was connected on the side with the dining room and kitchen. It had, not one or two doors, but four.
“Do you use the garage?” She asked since he had parked right in front of the… house.
“Yeah, but I wanted you to see the house before I pulled it in.” He grinned at her, and she nodded.
“Thanks, it is impressive.” It was, and it probably cost a fortune. “How did you guys end up here?”
“Special Agents get a pick of stuff before auctions happen. This was owned by a real dick-head who was smuggling drugs into the country. When he was arrested, we asked for the house and renovated it to suit our needs. We’ve been in it for two years now.” Elijah passed the garage doors, and Sawyer frowned as he went around to the back. On the other side of the garage, four more doors.
“An eight-car garage? Are you fucking serious?” She chuckled at it as Elijah hit the garage door opener and pulled in.
“Yeah, we haven’t filled it yet. Vincent and I are the only two with personal vehicles. Jasper and Zander share a Range Rover, which was given to us for work. Quinn doesn’t drive. We have two Range Rovers, actually, because we technically aren’t allowed to use personal vehicles for work.”
“And that thing.” She pointed at a car that was in pieces, and he nodded, shutting off the truck.
“Yeah. So… five vehicles. Oh, and our beat up little property truck and the two four wheelers.”
“Jasper said you get paid really well…” she sighed to herself.
“About five-hundred thousand a year, without bonuses.” Elijah nodded. “Teams normally have four to eight members, who normally live together in the early years, unless one gets married or something.”
“Bonuses?” Who had any idea that IMPO agents made so much fucking money? If that was public knowledge, they wouldn’t be suffering from a shortage of recruits.
“We get anywhere from a hundred grand to a million for finishing cases.” Elijah got out of the truck and she followed him. “We, on average, have two to three shorter cases a year, and this team does a couple longer term things, like trying to catch Axel. There’s only ten Special Agent teams on the planet, so the IMPO can afford to throw a lot of money at us.”
“So, this team is rich, and made to catch Axel.” She trailed behind him into the house, ending up in the dining room that she had seen from the front. “What will you do if you catch him?”
“Go after the next one.” Elijah grinned at her. “What else?”
Huh.
“The others are probably an hour behind us, which should give you time to see your room and get a little settled.” Elijah waved her on to keep following him. “You know Sawyer, I am sorry we had to rip you from your life. I promise we’ll make this as easy as possible for you.”
“Thanks,” she responded. “Truthfully, I should feel grateful. I could be in prison…”
Though, at this point she would rather be. Her fears about Axel realizing where she was hiding were amplified, now that she had been dragged out of New York, her haven. Add in a few nice guys who were just trying to make the world a better place…
“So, we only have four real bedrooms on the second floor. We had Quinn setting up an old apartment that was hiding in the attic while we were getting you. It doesn’t have its own bathroom, so you’ll have to share with us on the second floor.” He was trying to sound friendly and optimistic.
They made their way up the central staircase by the front door. The second floor was divided into halves, with three doors on one side and three doors on the other. Right in front of the staircase, though, was a narrow door.
“Quinn’s bedroom is on the first floor,” he told her as she went to jiggle the handle to the mysterious, out-of-place door. “And that’s the door to attic, let me unlock it for you.”
Once it was open, he led her up. A second door at the top of the stairs also needed to be unlocked, and they both stepped into the attic.
“Almost there,” he sighed, leading her to a door about ten feet away. That last one wasn’t locked, and he swung it open for her.
Lush, navy-blue carpet was the first thing she noticed—that and gray walls. A queen size bed had somehow been brought up, and it had a padded dark gray headboard, dark blue blankets, and a mix of gray and blue pillows. They had set up a desk for her, black and modern. A black dresser and a black end table finished off the room.
“He did well,” Elijah nodded. “Zande
r and I ordered it all, but Quinn had to get it all set up. I wasn’t sure he could get it done.”
“It’s nice,” she looked around more, and then kicked off her tennis shoes. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Elijah grinned at her. “If you ever want help breaking in the new mattress-”
“Get out,” she rolled her eyes and pointed to the door as he laughed. When he reopened the bedroom door, Sawyer nearly jumped at the person standing there. This must be Quinn. He was not what she had been expecting. Like every person she met, she analyzed him before saying anything.
He stepped in, looking at Elijah for a moment, and then at her. She noticed he had walked quietly as he moved towards her. He was obviously part Native American. His dark brown hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail that he had over his shoulder, letting her really see the length of it. It was longer than her own, but straight. Like the rest of the guys, he was over six feet tall, but she could see he was shorter than Elijah. He was leaner, like Zander; and, thanks to his shirtless state, she could tell he maintained an excellent form and a full, intricate tribal sleeve that covered his right arm and pectoral muscle.
What was throwing her off when looking at the gorgeous man were the cold, ice-blue eyes that looked like they could cut into her. He had a sharp brow, sharp cheekbones, and a full bottom lip. But those eyes were captivating and terrifying.
“You must be Sawyer,” he said in a harsh, gravelly voice when he stopped a few feet from her, and she nodded slowly.
“You must be Quinn,” she tried her best to keep her voice even.
If there was ever a person she could describe as feral, it was him. He was barely restrained violence. She watched his muscles tense and relax, as if he was trying to keep himself relaxed, but failing. Something about the way he looked at her reminded her of a beast ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey.
He turned away from her, a complete dismissal of her existence. When his back faced her, she bit her lip in sympathy. Scars covered his back from the top of his shoulder blades to the arch of his lower back.
A Life Of Shadows Page 13