Rebels and Realms: A Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

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Rebels and Realms: A Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection Page 37

by Heather Marie Adkins


  "The pixies don't live far from them," Logan said. "They’re probably the reason the goblins are riled up."

  "In the winter?" Gran sounded surprised.

  "So Hank says," Logan said.

  "It's supposed to snow soon," Gran said. "I'm not sure if it starts day after tomorrow or later that night, but we're going to be knee deep." Gran looked at Rider, taking in his towering height. "Well, Cassie and I will be knee deep, anyway."

  Logan looked somber, which didn't seem natural on the elf's face. "Not good for the goblins. Or the pixies, for that matter."

  "Won't they stay inside?" I asked.

  Logan shrugged. "Hard to say with pixies. The goblins usually would, but if they are on the defensive, they won't stay put."

  "But they'll be okay, right?" I asked, feeling worried. "I mean, it's snow. It's not like it's a rare occurrence around here."

  "The pixies will be fine," Logan said. "The goblins will be if they keep indoors. Getting that much snow, though... well, maybe we can make them see sense."

  "I need Rider for a few minutes," Hank said, when we approached his desk the next day, "but I'll meet you all in conference room 3B in an hour."

  Yawning, I nodded, wandered over to a random desk, and then tossed down my backpack. I never bothered with a purse. In this job, I used pockets and a duffel bag. Anything else was left behind. Although, the utility belts that we sometimes wore could hold quite a bit.

  Between walking from Hank's desk and the desk I claimed, Logan had wandered off and began chatting with another agent. It was quiet in the command room. Checking my watch, I could see why. Seven am.

  There was only myself to blame. After the debacle last fall, being at work seemed better than not. It kept me busy. Still, being a morning person was a skill I didn't possess. For that very reason, I left my computer to boot up while I followed the smell of coffee.

  When I got to the small kitchen area off the large room, two other agents were there already. When I entered, they stopped talking. It was a common occurrence. Maybe it was because they didn't know me well. People were polite, but tended to be distant.

  That was probably my doing as well. They'd gotten used to the off-putting aura my shattered soul created, but even though it had been more than a year, I still didn't know anyone in the office.

  Maybe it was time to make an effort. "Morning," I said, trying to smile.

  "Morning," the remaining agent said. "Coffee's fresh."

  I wracked my brain trying to remember the agent’s name. I was sure I had heard it before. "That's the best news of the day."

  He smiled. I hadn't realized he was anxious until he started to relax some.

  "You all get an early start," he said.

  "You too. Or is it a late night?" I asked. Was I supposed to know if he was on the night shift? Maybe not—those things tended to shift around. I poured my coffee and decided that sugar was going to be a necessity this morning.

  "Both," he said. "A portal opened up late yesterday. It was a few hours away and my team was closest."

  "Anything get through?" I asked, suddenly interested.

  "Not that we can tell. Red didn't spot anything on satellite, and we searched but found nothing."

  "That's good." What else do agents talk about? Logan seemed to have something to say to everyone.

  "I heard you had a tough day yesterday," he said.

  Trying not to blush was futile. "It was my first time with the gremlins." How much do other agents know about what happened with the gremlins yesterday, and who told them? Distraction was key. "Being back in the field was good, though." I drank my coffee to try to hide my reddening face.

  "Oh, yeah, I forgot. Medical desk duty is the pits. I got stuck in quarantine last fall. That was almost as bad, but shorter."

  "I've counted myself lucky in that area," I said.

  "Well, I'll see you around."

  "You too." I refilled my cup and mentally patted myself on the back for chatting with someone I didn't know. I really needed to find out his name, though.

  Rider was standing by the desk I had claimed. He dropped a pile of papers, and looking confused, picked something else up off the desk, held it up, and inspected it.

  His confusion spread to me. It was a bra. The bright pink and lace stood out like a beacon.

  "What are you doing?" I hissed in a low voice as I approached.

  "Someone appears to have left you something," Rider said.

  I snatched it out of his hands and looked at it. Why the hell was there a bra on my desk? I looked around the room and saw a few heads turn away with grins far too wide.

  Crap. It had to have been one of the other agents. What do I do with this?

  "Who left it?" I asked.

  "Too hard to say," Logan said from behind me, keeping an eye on Rider. "I imagine there are too many smells in here to find out something like that."

  Rider didn't seem to take the hint. "No, it is easy to trace."

  Logan sighed, and I glared at him. I think I understood what Logan was trying to get at, although he said nothing. We shouldn't try to find out who did it, even if it was possible. Just because I knew that Logan didn’t want us to dig into who left the bra, it didn't mean that I had to like it.

  "It obviously wasn't meant for me," I said, raising my voice slightly. "It's not my color."

  "I can give it back to—"

  "No." I cut Rider off. "I'll leave it here." The desk had a drawer and I shoved the hot pink bra inside. "Whoever wants it can claim it later."

  "But—"

  "What's with the paperwork?" I asked, once again cutting him off.

  3

  Rider looked morosely at the stack of papers. "Rules and regulations. I have to read them and sign them."

  "I thought you already did that," I said.

  "So did I," Rider said. "The gremlins are downstairs. Would you like to go see them?"

  "You just said you have stuff to sign," I said.

  Rider looked at the stack of papers. "I will take them home tonight to review. We have time before we meet to go downstairs."

  "Um." The truth was that I had no interest in seeing the little green guys after yesterday. It was bad enough everyone seemed to know what had happened. "I need to look over some reports and check our schedule."

  "I'll mosey on down with you, partner," Logan said. "Let's see what they can do with a box of paper clips."

  Watching them go, I second-guessed my decision. Maybe it looked bad to avoid them. In the end, I decided it didn't really matter either way. I spent the next thirty minutes looking at email and reviewing reports. It didn't actually need to be done, but it never hurt to double check.

  Ten minutes before our meeting, I realized I should have been using my time more productively and did research on goblins. The agency had files and files of documents on them. The computerized records were extensive, and I crammed as much knowledge as I could into my head for five minutes.

  That gave me five minutes to get coffee and go to the conference room.

  When I arrived, only Hank was there.

  "How's it going?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

  "Besides this goblin situation, not bad. We have some new equipment coming in," Hank said. "We're all getting an upgrade."

  "Didn't we just get new equipment?" I asked.

  "We had new-to-us equipment." Hank grinned broadly. "Kyrian managed to push through a whole office refit—not just replacing the stuff that got smashed up last fall. We're going paperless."

  "How does that even work in an office like ours?"

  "Much better," Hank said, turning in his seat as Logan and Rider entered the room. "Right, let's get down to business. We've got an issue with the goblins and we don't know what it is."

  "How do we know there's an issue with them?" I asked. "Did someone call it in?"

  "Not exactly," Hank said, sliding a file folder over to me.

  I opened the folder to find printed photographs, which I s
tudied, having no idea what I was looking at.

  "We don't visit the goblins often," Hank said. "They're territorial, militaristic, and quite frankly, they're mean."

  That had been all the facts I had gleaned from the files I read.

  "They mainly stay inside in the winter. They can handle the cold temperatures for short periods of time, but mix the cold with wet weather and they start to have problems."

  "Why are they here if they can't handle the winters?" I asked, genuinely curious.

  "They can handle the winters here better than the heat of the south," Hank said. "It's hard to find the right area for goblins. The amount of land needed is tricky, as well as the climate."

  "So, what are we looking at?" Logan asked, taking some of the pictures from me.

  "Teams of two to three goblins are patrolling," Hank said. "It's not completely unheard of, but they're traveling farther than normal."

  "Where do the pixies come into play?" I asked.

  "The goblins are concentrating on patrolling in their direction," Hank said. "Pixies won't show up on satellite, but if they're trying to play with the goblins, it would explain a lot."

  "So, we're off to see the pixies," I said.

  "Yes," Hank said. "But listen, Rider hasn't worked with the pixies yet. He needs to stick with one of you at all times."

  I grinned. "I think Rider will like the pixies."

  "Maybe so," Hank said. "But no one's first trip to see the pixies ends well."

  "Anything else we should know about?" Logan asked.

  "Everything else looks good," Hank said. "Get the pixies to stop playing with the goblins. That's all we need."

  "Are these the same pixies I met last year?" I asked as we stood and began to file out of the room.

  "No," Logan said. "These are outside of Brookville. I know the spot."

  I had been to the area before, a few months ago with Logan and Vincent. It wasn't something I wanted to dwell on, but I did all the way to the truck. On the drive, I tried to make small talk to take my mind off our missing partner.

  "How were the gremlins?" I asked.

  "They are very interesting," Rider said. "Not what I expected at all."

  "What did you expect?" I asked.

  "From the descriptions of others, I had expected something more akin to an animal than a person," Rider said.

  "I hadn't really thought about that," I said. "Where are they staying at the moment?"

  "They are downstairs in a large room," Rider said. "They appear to be comfortable."

  "It was specially made for them," Logan said. "The gremlins that came through last fall started in a metal room. Figured it would be the best thing since they like metal. They liked it a little too much, though. They had a hard time sleeping."

  "Did they try to take the room apart?" I asked.

  "Got it in one," Logan said. "Then they tried plastic. Plastic has a strange effect on them. It's almost as though they were stupefied by it."

  "The zip strips have the same effect," I said. "It doesn't hurt them, though, does it?"

  "Not that we can tell. They were... docile. They didn't act much like real gremlins."

  "Poor things," I said, momentarily forgetting the fact that they had taken all my clothes the previous day. "What's the room made of now?"

  "Wood," Logan said. "But it’s temporary."

  "Did we find a way to get them home?" That idea had some appeal. I couldn't imagine getting trapped in another world.

  "Twice, the portable has given us plenty of warning that it was opening," Logan said. "I'm sure it'll do the same in good time. For now, we are building a better place for them while we learn more."

  "Is there any way to keep them near the portal?" I asked.

  "We can get them closer than they are now," Logan said, "but we're having trouble getting hold of the land where the portal opens, so it can't be too close at the moment."

  "I guess closer is good." My thoughts flowed around what it might be like for them—stuck in an unknown world and caged. Knowing AIR, though, their next cage wouldn't be recognizable as a cage. It was one of the reasons the Farm was so big. The entire area was fenced in, and small communities of Lost lived there.

  Some of them thought it was almost as good as home.

  Logan hummed under his breath, and Rider stared out the window. Both had come to this world by choice. Rider, because he was born here originally. His mother had been from this world, which made it a natural decision to come. Logan had brought his whole family here after his wife died. Elves mated for life, and he had lost his wife at an early age. Early for elves, anyway. That was fifty years ago.

  Was there anything that could make me leave this world?

  Thinking of Gran, my friends, and my mother, I couldn't imagine being anywhere else. A week wouldn't be complete without Cici throwing something at me when I ventured out back to walk to Logan's house. A morning wouldn't feel right without Gran's cat hissing when I walked by.

  The strangers I met, I could do without. They either ignored me or looked at me with contempt most of the time. Nevertheless, even if I was stuck seeing them every single day, I didn't think I would be able to leave my world.

  "I have reviewed information on pixies," Rider said. "Is there anything I should know before I meet them?"

  "We have at least one friend in the group," Logan said. "A pixie got hurt last fall and spent some time at the Farm. She's with this group. Hopefully we'll find her pretty quickly."

  "And if we do not?" Rider asked.

  "The pixies will try to play," Logan said.

  I couldn't repress a grimace.

  "But we'll get one of the leaders to talk with us." Logan turned off the highway. "It could take a while, though."

  "Let's hope not," I muttered.

  Logan laughed.

  "Why do you not like to play with the pixies?" Rider asked.

  "Their games are only fun for them," I said. "Usually, anyway."

  "It helps if you know the language," Logan said.

  "I do not know their language." Rider looked apprehensive. "Why is it you think I will like the pixies?"

  "It seems like some of their games are like hide and seek," I said. "I can't think of anyone better than a werewolf to find where they’re hiding. You'd hear them. Or maybe smell them."

  "You won't hear them," Logan said. "Not unless they are handling something that makes noise. They make even less noise than an elf in the woods."

  That wasn't promising. An elf made no noise in the woods.

  "But they smell," I said. "I know they have to smell."

  "That's something Rider can track," Logan said.

  "How do you work so well with them?" I asked.

  "Just a knack I suppose," Logan said.

  From experience, I knew I wouldn't get more than that from Logan. He could be cagey about some of his skills in the field.

  "Do they leave a Path?" Rider asked.

  That perked me up. "You know, they didn't leave enough of one to follow before, but maybe I'm strong enough now to see their Path."

  "We'll soon find out," Logan said. He turned down a gravel road. "No live weapons today. We'll bring our dart guns, but those are not to be used on the pixies, no matter what."

  "The goblins?" I asked.

  "We're taking them in case we run into them," Logan said. "Try talking first. They're not big, so if they are unarmed, the guns stay holstered."

  "No worries there," I said. "But, is that safe to have with the pixies around?"

  "They don't like the smell of the tranqs," Logan said. "Pixies leave the darts alone."

  Logan pulled to a stop at a stretch of woods that seemed like all other stretches of woods. "And you two stick together like glue."

  My surprise must have been written across my face.

  "Don't worry, Rider," Logan added, "Cassie has more than a year of field experience under her belt. She'll know what to do."

  Logan had far more confidence in my abilities
than I did. More than a year? I guess, if you counted training in the field, I had a year and a month. Almost.

  Logan looked at me expectantly.

  "Right," I said, trying to put more reassurance than I felt into the words. "We'll be fine."

  "We won't need to split up for long, but you know the pixies," Logan said. "I'd like to keep you away from the goblins if we can. They are aggressive, and I'm not sure how they'll react to you."

  Naturally, that was directed at me. My soul tended to bring the worst out of people who were aggressive.

  "Hopefully, we won't find out," I said.

  4

  The cold was like a slap in the face when Rider opened the door. While Logan called in our position and made sure Hank had us logged, I checked my gloves and pulled my knit cap down over my ears.

  "Have everything you need?" I asked when I started to review our gear bag.

  Rider looked worried. "How do I know what all I will need?"

  That made me stop and think. "Anything that the office or Logan thinks we'll need."

  Rider appeared to be working through a mental list. "I still need my gun."

  "Tranqs," Logan called out to us.

  I shifted gears and unlocked the gun case before rummaging around the bag one last time. "Then anything that you personally think you might need."

  "What do you keep?" Rider asked.

  I patted my pockets. "I have an extra granola bar, because I know the hike is going to take ages. I also brought some tissues and two hand warmers in case I need to break those out later."

  "Hand warmers? Are those gloves?" Rider asked.

  "No." I pulled one from my pocket and handed it to him. "It's something that gets warm when you open it."

  Rider smelled it, and his nose curled before he thrust it back at me. "I think I have what I need."

  Smiling, I stowed the warmer back in my pocket and closed the bag.

  "Rider can carry the gear," Logan said, taking his gun.

  Once my own tranquilizer pistol was holstered, I looked into the woods. The trees stood as bare sentries of the forest. Who would guess that pixies and goblins dwelt there?

 

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