Lady of Blades

by Saje Williams

  "Yes. I wanted to discuss security for our guests."

  "I had them put in the lock-down wing, sir. Each cell has a palm and retina lock attached and requires either you or I be present to open each cell. As per your initial design."

  "Good. And food, water, and sanitation?"

  "By trapdoor, sir. Also as designed."

  "Good. I assume we will have no more trouble out of them for the time being, don't you?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Very well. Dismissed."

  The Major saluted, turned on a heel, and left the room. “Not quite perfect security, but pretty close. Walled off from magic, shielded from psychic powers, and too dense for any of the more brawny prisoners to batter down."

  Twenty-three

  Deryk Shea stood, stretched, and crossed the room to a cabinet kitty-corner from the bay window opposite his desk. Opening the cabinet, he reached in and withdrew one of the mirrorgate devices—the one sized for Orcus. He turned it over in his hands and smiled. “And if I could figure out how this works, I'd be able build the most powerful army the world."

  "Not if I can help it!” Riding on a sonic boom, the small blue dynamo materialized in midair, having launched himself from Shea's desk while still invisible. He landed on the immortal's shoulders and slammed him upside the head with the encyclopedia he'd liberated from the bookshelf in the other room. Thwack! Thwack!

  He dropped to the floor, grabbed Shea by the foot, and lifted.

  An imp's physical strength is in no way proportionate to its weight and mass. The average imp can tie a two-inch diameter steel cable into a bow knot with frightening ease.

  Shea's foot came off the floor at just the right angle to send him toppling at a perfect trajectory for the corner of his desk and his right temple to meet. He crumpled to the floor, twisting slightly to land on his back.

  Not content with only a few acts of mayhem, the imp bounded in the air and came down with every bit of force he could summon on a three inch spot square in the middle of Shea's stomach.

  Another bound took him up and over the immortal's desk. He bent down, scooped the desk from the floor, and whipped it around in a semi-circle about head high to the now sitting Shea. It exploded in the imp's hands and dashed the hapless immortal into the nearest wall with enough force to drive his head and shoulder halfway through the drywall.

  He continued to hit him until the desk had disintegrated into a pile of splinters and shavings on the office floor. He reached out, grabbed the back of Shea's belt, and hauled him out of the wall. “Unconscious yet?"

  Apparently so. “I beat Deryk's ass!” He danced around the room, returned to Shea's unconscious body, and teleported them both to a hallway seven floors down. He dumped the immortal unceremoniously on the floor outside the cells. “Damn! I almost forgot!” he popped out, returning a moment later with a sack full of goodies. “Mirrorgates and weapons will come in handy,” he murmured.

  * * * *

  Jaz heard a groaning sound and watched suspiciously as her cell door suddenly slid open. She nudged Amanda awake and crept toward the opening. Quickfingers stuck his head around the corner. “Hey, boss! What are you waiting for? This guy isn't going to sleep forever, y'know."

  She looked from the imp to his unconscious prisoner and back, not sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. “What did you do?"

  "I beat up Deryk Shea,” the imp announced proudly.

  "Stop screwing around and let everyone else out before we get company,” Amanda hissed. “Where's Ben?"

  "Keep your shirt on! No, on second thought,” he began, holding an imaginary cigar and waggling his brows suggestively, “why don't you take—"

  Jaz grabbed him by the ear and dragged him and Shea to the next door. “Ow!"

  She jerked Shea up by the back of his neck and shoved his face next to the optical scanner as the imp lifted his hand to the palm reader. The door slid open.

  They walked down the hall, performing this drill over and over until everyone had been released. With a sly smirk, Jaz threw Deryk Shea into the same cell Chaz stepped out of. “What's in the sack?” he asked the imp.

  "Thought you'd never ask.” He kicked the door shut and tossed the bag to the Artificer. “Mirrorgates. And my gate module! Thanks, Q!"

  "Now do I know how to arrange an escape, or what?"

  "We still need Thoth,” Jaz reminded him. “We're not home free yet."

  "I can find him!” Quickfingers announced. He disappeared with a pop and a flash of light.

  "Is it me,” Amanda asked, “or is he getting more dramatic every time he does that?"

  * * * *

  "Did you see a little blue guy run by here?” Thoth asked of the newspaper stand attendant. The Arabic man shook his head and denied seeing any such thing, giving him the ‘all Americans are crazy’ look.

  Thoth knew he'd seen the creature. Following him. Somehow the odd little beast had escaped capture, and it was now following him around the city.

  He didn't think it posed any real danger, but he still didn't like it following him. No telling what nefarious plans the little freak was hatching in that small freaky head.

  Cars had been outlawed in the city for the past five years. The streets and sidewalks had been filled with tents and booths, lending the city a permanent festival atmosphere. The economic crash had sent half the middle class tumbling into poverty. It was already being said that the only way out anymore was to join the Army.

  All part of the plan. Shea's plan.

  It started with tomatoes. The first one flew past an inch in front of his nose to smash itself into puree against a tent-pole. Thoth froze in place, eyes following the path of the tomato to its destruction. This is why the second tomato smashed into the base of his skull, just behind his right ear.

  And then he was being pelted with tomatoes ... a veritable storm of tomatoes, flying at him from every conceivable angle. He sank to his knees, trying to protect his head and face, but they kept coming, pulping against his limbs and flinging juice and meat through his defenses.

  He couldn't even see to cast a spell. Every time he tried to open his eyes they burned like a struck match had been laid against them. What few glimpses he managed were wet and blurry, little more than a smear across his vision.

  He felt a burst of air hit him and heard the imp's voice in his ear. “You think you won? You won a lifetime of hell, mister. Don't ever piss off an imp."

  The imp's departure sounded like a bomb going off beside him. He crashed onto his side, curled up in a fetal position and just lay there.

  "Stick a fork in him,” the imp's voice came again. “He's done."

  "Nice work, imp.” The amusement in Loki's voice was thick as concrete slurry.

  "You've got a talent for taking down immortals, don't you, Q?” This was the tiny woman's voice. Amanda.

  They'd caught him. Not only that ... they'd escaped from Deryk Shea.

  Thoth rolled over onto his back. “Fuckers."

  "You thought you had us, didn't you, Thoth?” Jaz's contempt rained down on him. “Never underestimate us. We've got more tricks than a circus full of clowns. C'mon, Chaz. Time to go home."

  "A circus full of clowns? What the hell kinda analogy is that?"

  "Hey, can't be little miss quick-witted all the time."

  "Try harder."

  * * * *

  Tacoma, WA

  Earth Prime

  PAC Headquarters

  Sept 9th, 2018

  8:25 PM

  "Now that we have him, what are we going to do with him? We can't just keep him drugged up.” Athena growled.

  "You're right. He's enjoying it far too much,” Jaz said. “I recommend we go shark fishing. Bring him along. As bait."

  "You could try actually being helpful, Jaz."

  "What—sarcasm isn't helpful? Obviously someone lied to me."

  Athena ignored this. “Any thoughts, Deryk?"

  "I'd like to turn him, but I wouldn't trust him
anyway, so there's very little point.

  "Besides, they know he's captured by now.” Athena poked under her eye-patch with a forefinger, evidently scratching an itch. The sight made Jaz a little queasy regardless.

  "There is that. They probably wouldn't trust him either.” Shea rubbed at the stubble threatening to overgrow his jaw line.

  "So there's no real use for him, is there? Boat. Chum. Shark. Yum."

  "I wouldn't go so far as to say that,” Shea cautioned her. She could see the spark deep in his eye that told her he was secretly amused by her antics. “We still don't know if he killed all those people, remember? He was your top suspect when all this started."

  "Well, yeah."

  "And now?"

  "He's a freak, but he's not that kind of freak."

  "What, now you can only be one kind of freak at a time?"

  "Besides, you can't say freak like that anymore. Freak is the new queer."

  "Where in the hell did that come from? What are you talking about now?"

  "Calling us weirdo freaks is no longer politically correct. Now—get this—we're ‘unexpectedly altered people.’”

  "U-A-P? As acronyms go, that sucks."

  "Can we get back to business?” Athena asked irritably. “It's not too much to ask that you actually pay attention during debriefings and actually start keeping a log of your activities during assignments."

  "I give oral reports,” Jaz growled. “I'm not turning shit in to you for grading purposes. I don't work for you, Ms. Cross, and I never will again.” She knew how much Athena hated being called by her last name. She'd take any opportunity to needle her. She just couldn't help herself.

  "And I accept oral reports,” Shea announced. “I'd be glad to hire a secretary for Ms. Tashae as soon as you start subsidizing her salary. Until then, she'll give me a verbal report, I'll give her instructions, and she'll learn to ad-lib where she has to."

  "So, yes,” Jas told her.” It is too much to ask."

  Athena gave a long-suffering sigh. “I think you two are part of a conspiracy to drive me insane. Thoth isn't giving up anything—about the murders or anything else, for that matter. He seems to think the Fifth Amendment actually applies to him."

  "It doesn't?"

  "He comes from a world where he works for the very people who subverted the Constitution. He doesn't get to claim its protections now."

  "Not like we don't ignore the Bill of Rights when it suits us anyway,” Jaz snorted.

  "Yes, but we haven't subverted it entirely for our own benefit. After your team returned with the location of that universe, I sent Chaz and a couple of other agents to dig a little deeper there. It's bad ... real bad."

  "So what happened there, anyway?"

  "Martial law. Apparently their Loki did the same thing ours did—but the end result was much different than it was here. A reactionary group seized control of the government and placed all ‘freaks',” She put a ridiculous amount of emphasis behind the word, “under the control of the military and intelligence communities."

  "They've experimented on them, haven't they?"

  Athena nodded. “Those who weren't killed outright."

  Jaz shuddered. As much as her own Earth frustrated her at times, she hated to think of the alternative. “So, are we going to do anything about it?"

  Athena frowned. “Do anything about what? That Earth is none of our business. We have enough trouble trying to police our own world."

  "Speaking of policing our own world—what happened to my uncle?"

  "He's been returned to Egypt. I imagine he'll get a slap on the wrist and be returned to his former post. But I get the feeling he won't be playing ambassador to the U.S. anymore."

  "I should have left him stuck in the ground."

  "You did him enough damage that he won't be setting foot on our soil again. I imagine that's good enough."

  "He was a terrorist."

  "Yes, he was. And if he shows up here again, we'll arrest and try him for it. His diplomatic immunity was secure enough that the worst we could do was deport him. It was either that or risk an international incident. But we've revoked any diplomatic privilege he might enjoy here, so if he shows back up, he's fair game."

  "I'll keep that in mind.” Jaz dialed a feral smile and let Athena see it. “You wouldn't mind if he just disappeared, would you?"

  "I would prefer a trial and imprisonment, personally, but I imagine you'll do whatever you want anyway."

  "She's learning,” Shea said to Jaz.

  "What is it with you two? Totally incapable of playing by the rules, aren't you?"

  "Where's the fun in that? Sometimes if the rules don't work, you have to make up new ones."

  "When everyone does that, we call it anarchy."

  "Good thing everyone isn't doing that, wouldn't you say?” Jaz grinned at her and pushed herself to her feet. “Calm down, Athena. Everything's working out just fine."

  "For now. I'm just waiting for the other nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine shoes to drop."

  "Huh?” Jaz stopped at the door. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

  "It means I'm expecting real trouble to show up any time. This piddly shit is about done. The next time we hear tell of the Centians, it'll be something huge that we're not ready to handle."

  "Speak for yourself, Athena. I'm ready for anything.” That said, she swung the door open and walked out.

  "Do you think she's ready for anything, Deryk?"

  "Almost anything,” he replied.

  "So what do you think would blindside her?"

  "Love."

  * * * *

  "Don't you think a victory party is a little premature?” Jaz asked Amanda, looking around the dim interior of Loki's club. A band was mixing it up on the stage, but they weren't anyone Jaz particularly cared for, so she carefully tuned them out.

  The tiny blonde shrugged. “People need an excuse to blow off steam sometimes."

  "And any excuse will do?"

  "Exactly. Look at it this way. You freed Strihava from Hecate, gave your uncle a bit of what he had coming, and captured Thoth. You've had a very successful couple of weeks."

  "Doesn't sound too bad when you put it that way."

  "Anybody tell you that you brood too much, Jaz?"

  "I hear it occasionally.” She shrugged. “I can't help but think I could have done more."

  "More? Like what?"

  "Saved Diamond's life, made my uncle really pay for his crimes, and freed all those people currently living under that other Deryk Shea's thumb."

  "You're really a glass half empty kinda gal, aren't you?"

  "I consider her a shattered-glass kinda girl myself,” Loki said, appearing at her elbow. “If we ever solved all the world's problems she'd just have to go looking for new ones. If she's not solving problems, she's not alive."

  "You really need to learn how to relax, Jaz. Here, have one of these.” Chaz appeared at her other elbow, holding some purple drink in pounder glass.

  "I don't drink, Chaz, and you know it."

  "I don't get it. What's your deal with alcohol?"

  "I like to stay in control. Alcohol doesn't help. Thus, no alcohol for me."

  "Well, you could always go see if Ben has a couple joints on him."

  She turned a hooded glare on him. “I don't do drugs of any kind, Chaz. And you know damn well why."

  "You desperately need something to unwind you—you're strung tighter than a cheap violin."

  "Exactly how tightly is a cheap violin strung, Chaz?"

  "Just look in a mirror, Jaz."

  "Funny. Ha-ha.” She turned to survey the crowd, taking a careful sip off her coffee. On nights like this one might actually think Halloween had come a little early. The club's patrons, always on the eclectic side anyway, seemed to run more on the inhuman side during these particular celebrations. Abyssians mixed with trolls and goblins, while the more ordinary humans donned strange costumes and tried to appear as otherworldly a
s possible.

  She spotted a few obvious vampires, but even more outlandish were the mortals trying to appear to be vampires—she always found that far more amusing a pastime than the real vampires did. They tended to view the poseurs as irritants. Woe to any mortal pretender who approached a vampire wishing to be made into one of them.

  Some had no problem keeping such mortals away. Renee, sitting at a table across the room with Raven and Loki, simply used a little telepathic trickery to steer them in another direction before they could even approach her.

  Raven usually ignored them. If pressed, he'd simply vanish in a cloud of swirling black smoke, or, if he was feeling particularly aggravated, would use a transit tube to transport them someplace out of the way.

  Other vamps, from what she understood, weren't quite so ... nice. Since killing mortals was pretty much a no-no, some vampires used pesky mortals as an excuse to play with their less socially acceptable powers. Anything short of killing a human, or causing one actual physical damage, was legal by current definitions. So mortals who played games with the vampires tended to learn very quickly that it wasn't a good idea. Legally protected from physical harm was considerably different than being protected from any harm.

  One vampire had used his telepathic powers to convince an overly-enthusiastic reporter that she'd never grown any older than five. As one might expect, this permanently ended what had been looking to be a successful career as a journalist.

  One played with the vamps at one's own risk.

  Renee's gaze met Jaz's and she made a beckoning motion with one hand. Shit. Well, time to get back to work.

  It took her a few minutes to work her way through the crowd, but, by the time she reached Renee's table, they'd been joined by another two vampires. That makes four at this table alone, she thought, pulling a chair from an adjacent table. The two guys sitting there started to object, but changed their minds when they realized who and what were inhabiting the table Jaz was joining.

  "What's up?” she asked Renee.

  "I wanted you to meet a couple of people. Jasmine Tashae, this is Gina Keening."

  The blonde woman smiled and, at that moment, Jaz recognized her. “Hey, I know who you are. Didn't you used to be a model?"