“You make it sound like Riker’s staying in that chair.”
“I’m almost certain he is, even if he grumbles about it until the day he retires.” Delarosa grips my bed railing and nods like he saw this development coming from a mile away. “There are two agents with the tenure and experience necessary to take the helm of DSI in a time of crisis like this. Riker and Nakamura. The latter took over all large-scale field operations when the quarantine went into effect, and that’s what he’s always been good at: managing bodies on the ground. Riker, on the other hand, has always been the guy with Bollinger’s ear, and the mayor’s. It was bound to be him who would move up in the world after Bollinger bit it.” He pauses. “Just didn’t think the old man would literally bite it.”
“Especially like that,” I say. Riker was the one who killed Bollinger. He literally shot the guy and then took his job. He probably feels awful about it too, considering how long they were colleagues, how long they were friends. I’m pretty sure they knew each other before I was born. And yet, in an instant, all of that history was swept away by Delos’ mind magic, replaced with a mask of the real Bollinger that Riker had no choice but to destroy at a critical moment.
Holding the title of commissioner will haunt Riker for the rest of his life. But Delarosa is right. He can’t turn it down. Not now. Not in the middle of this string of orchestrated disasters. Not with the Methuselah Group still out there. Not when DSI needs his level of leadership, more than we ever have before.
“God,” I say, “what a clusterfuck.”
“You’re telling me.” Delarosa runs a hand through his hair. “So, what should I report? I was sent over here to get a read on your condition. How goes it?”
“I’ve been better,” I admit. “Usually, when I get severely injured, I have Navarro to—” My voice cuts out as the vivid image of the task room slaughterhouse scene assaults me, and I close my eyes, breathing in sharply.
“Yeah,” Delarosa says in a drawn-out note, “we saw it too. Went through every room when we were evacuating the building and…I knew it was coming. We all heard the recording, with Bollinger admitting what he’d done, but actually walking in there and seeing them all in that condition, especially Navarro, threw me. Real bad. He was a good man, and a great doctor.”
Someone sniffles, and I open my eyes to find Zhane openly weeping. “I didn’t know him that long,” she says, “but he was my favorite kind of doctor. That stern-faced sort you can always tell is humoring you under the surface. I really liked him.”
The rest of the team agrees in muted whispers.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do without him.” Delarosa sighs again.
All I can think to say is, “Persevere.”
Delarosa stiffens for a second, then bows his head. “You’re right. Exactly right.”
“Anyway”—I segue back to the original question in a cringe-worthy manner—“you can tell my teammates that I’m doing as well as can be expected, am watching continuous pay-per-view movies on their dime, and have a bagful of delicious cookies that I will not share unless they come to visit me in person.”
Delarosa glances from the cookie bag to Zhane, a smile breaking out on his tired face. “I’ll be sure to pass that along, Kinsey.” He digs an object out of his pocket and sets it beside the bag. A new DSI-issue smartphone. “Meanwhile, if you need to contact anyone for any reason, and I mean any reason, please don’t hesitate to call. Everyone’s on strict orders to answer you, even if you’re high as a kite and spouting nonsense. You’re a big hero around the office, again, and we’re all at your beck and call.”
“Big hero?” I look at my heavily bandaged body. “I look like a scarecrow that got run over by a truck and then got stitched back together in the dead of night by a person who can’t sew.”
Everyone sniggers, including Delarosa. The captain clears his throat after a moment and rebuts me respectfully. “True as that may be, you saved our asses. If you hadn’t escaped from Delos, and his true allegiance had remained unknown, and he’d jumpstarted that stupid war he wanted, we’d be in a much bigger bind right now. So you’re this week’s reigning DSI champion, Kinsey.” He taps on the phone. “Use the VIP status wisely.”
“Wildly, did you say?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “You would. No, but really, Kinsey. Rest up, get well, and call us, any of us, if you need anything. We’ve got a big mess to clean up, but you’re a priority too.” His eyes quickly flit to my ruined hand, but I catch it, and suddenly realize why he’s emphasizing the whole “VIP” treatment spiel so much. Everyone knows how badly Bollinger shot me up. Hell, they all probably saw him shoot me on the video from my pin camera. They know the likelihood of my full recovery is nil, and they all feel guilty about it. That they let me down by not vigorously defending me when Delos swept in with his wild accusations.
I want to tell them they don’t have to feel that way, that the only person at fault was Delos—even Bollinger was a hapless pawn—but they already know that, logically. They’re all smart enough to know that. They feel bad anyway, the same way I felt bad when Cooper got grabbed by Charun because I gave him Vanth’s key. We’re prone to guilt like that, I guess, us Crows who sit at the fulcrum that keeps the human world and its supernatural shadow barely balanced. Because every time we make even the tiniest misstep, it blows up in all our faces.
So it goes…
“By the way,” I ask Delarosa, before he can tell me goodbye, “where’s Cooper Lee? I haven’t heard anything about him since…” Since he got pinned as the accomplice who helped me escape Bollinger and Delos’ wrath. “He’s okay, right? I mean, he wasn’t injured when the building got damaged?”
Delarosa’s expression dithers between surprise and dejection, like he had no idea I was going to ask a question about my own boyfriend. Which is strange, because everyone knows Cooper and I are dating. It’s not a secret, and it’s not against regulations. We don’t work in the same department, much less on the same team. There’s no fraternization issue. So we’ve been pretty public with it, sharing meals in the cafeteria, leaving together, arriving together. But here Delarosa is, blindsided by my question. Which means he thought I already knew about Cooper’s status, and Cooper’s status is not good.
“What happened?” I say. “Where’s Cooper?”
Delarosa raises his hands. “He’s all right. It’s just…Look, I’m not the best person to explain this. I’ll tell Ella to come by and give you the whole story. The short version is that he’s not currently in Aurora.”
“What? Then where is he?”
Delarosa grimaces. “No, really, you need to talk to Ella. It’s a bit of a mess, but it’ll be straightened out, I’m sure.” He tugs out his own phone and shoots off a quick text. “There. She’ll be over ASAP, okay? And she’ll tell you everything. I promise though, Lee’s fine. There’s just a complicated situation going on regarding his current whereabouts and occupation.”
My heart beats hard in my chest. “Occupation?”
“Please, Kinsey, let Ella explain.”
I want to wring it out of him, but I decide to let it go. “Okay, fine. But tell her to hurry.”
He sends off another text. “Done.”
Mood ruined, I throw my gaze out the window and mutter, “You can go now.”
Delarosa sucks in a soft breath, like he wants to say something, but he decides against it and ushers his team out of my room, closing the door quietly behind them.
Cooper, I think as the door latch clicks, what did I leave you to suffer through?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ella arrives when I’m halfway finished picking through my lunch of watery soup and bland bread. She looks as though she hasn’t slept a wink all week, bags under her eyes, her short hair sticking up like she’s run her hands through it endlessly, her clothing rumpled and unwashed. But her dull expression brightens when she sees me alive, awake, and in good enough condition to shakily shovel spoonfuls of soup into
my mouth. So whatever’s been happening on her side of the fence since the garage showdown hasn’t been totally devastating. It’s just been exhausting. A good sign, I hope.
Without a word, Ella takes the chair next to my bed and then places an iPad on the nightstand next to Zhane’s bag of cookies and the new phone left by Delarosa.
I drop my spoon in the soup bowl and scowl at her, because she’s buying time before she delivers the news about Cooper, which means she has something to say that I don’t want to hear.
“Ella, don’t baby me. Tell me what happened to Coop.”
She stares at my bed railing for a moment before she dares to meet my gaze. “He’s in Siberia.”
“What?” I pick up the small dinner roll with my left hand and squeeze it like a stress ball. “Why is he all the way over there? And what for?”
Ella pinches the bridge of her nose. “You remember a few months ago when Cooper got that offer to work on a research project for DSI Moscow?”
“Um, yeah, vaguely. He turned them down.” Cooper had agonized over the decision because he didn’t want to spend a year in the frozen tundra, but the compensation package was hefty enough to put him on the fence. “Are you saying he went out there to join the project?”
“Not willingly.” She sighs. “When Bollinger found out Cooper helped you escape, he dragged Cooper down to holding and grilled him about your whereabouts. Once it was determined that Cooper didn’t know where you were—or that he was unwilling to reveal your location, even under pressure of interrogation—the commissioner gave Cooper two choices.
“One, he could be fired, and would be barred from ever holding a DSI job again. Essentially become a persona non grata. Or two, he could be exiled for a period of time as penance for his actions, a hardship posting, if you will. And the best option for that punishment was the Moscow branch’s research project located outside Omsk, because it’s such a miserable climate to work in.
“Cooper, of course, didn’t want to be fired, so he was basically pressed into signing the project contract. Bollinger shipped him off to Russia less than an hour later, even had the Guard let him past the quarantine perimeter so he could take a flight out of Detroit. He’s been gone since the day you were captured by Delos.”
I let the crumbled remains of the roll fall back onto my tray. “Okay, so he’s in Siberia. That sucks. But I don’t see the problem here. Put him on another plane and fly him back.”
She gives me a sour expression. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Did you miss the part where he signed a contract?”
“Under duress.”
“DSI Moscow doesn’t care, Cal.” She blows a frustrated breath through her teeth, like she’s had a bundle of pointless conversations with the talking heads in Russia about this topic already. “Their recruitment for talented researchers didn’t pan out as well as they’d hoped, and they’re understaffed at the Omsk facility. They want Cooper to stay for at least a six-month term, and they’re lording the fact he did, technically, sign the contract, over our heads, claiming it’s legally binding and we can’t prove otherwise.”
“You must be kidding. Are they complete assholes?”
She shakes her head. “I think they’re just desperate. They’ve put a lot of money into this project. I don’t know the specifics, but it’s some big experiment designed to improve our offensive capabilities against supernaturals, and Moscow wants it to succeed, because of the way things are heating up in Aurora. They think it’s only a matter of time before the Methuselah issues become apparent in other major cities, and they want us to be ready. They want to get this project underway, and they need people like Cooper to do it.”
“But he doesn’t want to be there, does he?” I say weakly.
“Well, yes and no.” Ella leans back against the seat cushion. “He likes the facility actually, and the project parameters, but he’s pretty damn sore he got exiled out there.”
“You talked to him?”
She gestures to the iPad. “You can too. That’s a DSI-issue tablet. It’s got an app that’ll let you video call Cooper at the Omsk facility. They’re pretty strict about secrecy, so you have to log in with your department ID, call into a main terminal, and get rerouted to Cooper’s private room. No regular phone calls. No emails either.”
“But what about the time difference? How do I know when to call him?” I make a grabbing motion for the tablet. It’s too far away for me to reach it with my left hand.
Ella grabs it for me and hands it over. “There’s a schedule on the app that tells you when everyone is available. Cooper’s times are listed in EST.”
“So they’ve already put him to work?”
“They put him to work as soon as he stepped into the facility. They’re serious about this, Cal. I don’t know what the heck they’re doing over there, but apparently, it’s extremely important.”
I turn on the iPad, and as I wait for it to boot, I think about Cooper in the supply closet, telling me he loves me, kissing me goodbye, forcing me to leave him behind. “I’m not comfortable with this, with him being out there by himself, no friends, no allies.”
“Me either, Cal, but the project heads are adamant about him staying.” She chews on her lip as she carefully phrases her next words. “And honestly, it might not be such a bad thing.”
“What’s not a bad thing? Cooper being stuck in the tundra for months?”
She smiles faintly. “I mean Cooper not having to see you like this.”
“Oh.”
“I told him you were injured, but I didn’t tell him…”
“That I might be permanently disabled and unable to continue working as a detective.”
Ella rises from the chair, lowers my bed railing, and sinks onto the mattress beside me. “Look, I just didn’t want to worry him after he’d been through so much stress. And I didn’t feel it was my place to try and tell him how you might be feeling. I figured you would want to speak with him about what happened, with Delos, with Bollinger, your personal feelings about those terrible things, without me coloring his perceptions before you had a chance to talk. Cooper’s been my friend for years, sure, but you two are together, and I think it’s important for you to discuss your feelings with him before I intrude and try to tell you how to feel.”
A warm sensation sprouts in my chest. “Oh, Ella, I don’t think you tell people how to feel.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Well,” I add, “most of the time.”
“You flatter me.” She lightly punches my arm. “But I know I push too hard sometimes, try to force you to understand things prematurely that you should work out for yourself. I can be a bit of a bossy mom that way. But really, you and Cooper are good for each other because you use each other as sounding boards to work out your feelings and thoughts about all the things we go through. You open up to one another, not only because you’re attracted to each other, but also because you’re about the same age, and you have a great deal in common. I’ve seen both of you grow, a lot, just from spending time around each other this past year.”
Ella embraces me gently, then points out the video chat app on the tablet screen. “Make some time to call him and discuss what you want to do. Tell him about your injuries, and let him tell you about his ‘new job.’ Figure out want you both want to do, what would be best for you, as individuals and as a couple. If, in the end, Cooper really does want to come home right away, I’ll get him home. Full stop. But it’s up to you two to decide how you want to proceed.”
All my fears fall away at the soft boldness of her words. “Okay, I’ll talk to him. We’ll figure it out.” I smile. “Thanks, Ella.”
“Anything for the team baby.” She ruffles my hair. “Now stop being a real baby and finish your soup.”
“Yes, Mom,” I reply, sticking out my tongue. “Or should I say Captain?”
She groans. “Oh, don’t remind me. Desmond and Amy won’t let me hear the end of—�
��
Someone clears their throat, and we both look to the door to find High Witch Omotoke Iyanda standing in the hall, with owl man loitering behind her. Her expression is totally neutral as she says, “I apologize for interrupting, but I was wondering if I could have a minute alone to speak with Detective Kinsey, regarding the matter of Robert Delos.”
Ella opens her mouth to say no on principle, not wanting to leave me without a defense against someone as powerful as Iyanda, but I cut her off before she can speak. “All right.”
Ella mutters, “Cal.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “Just wait in the hall. I’ll yell real loud if I need help.”
Ella slips off the mattress and trudges past Iyanda, eying the woman with contempt the entire time. Even though Iyanda stopped Delos from self-destructing and saved the DSI building from collapse, the fact that the High Witch didn’t bother to tell anyone she was investigating MG activity in Aurora for months has no doubt caused a great deal of friction between the ICM and DSI.
The ICM has always been secretive about what they consider “internal matters,” unwilling to let DSI step foot in their domain, but now that the actions of the rogue practitioners have leaked so horribly into the normal human world, that behavior isn’t going to fly anymore. Ella is simply one of the many messengers who want to drive that point home to the High Court.
Iyanda steps into the room and glides across the floor, her loose blue suit pants and frilly white top a stark contrast to the battle gear she was wearing in the garage. Even so, she looks just as intimidating as before, the weight of centuries hanging behind her eyes, a pool of wisdom and knowledge so vast I can hardly comprehend its breadth. Owl man slinks into the room behind her and quietly shuts the door, then stands sentry as if he thinks Ella might come charging back in if Iyanda spends more than sixty seconds speaking to me.
For my part, I try not to seem daunted, but it’s kind of hard to look imposing when you’re wrapped up like a mummy. “What do you need to know?” I ask her. “Didn’t Erica relay the whole story to you?” I haven’t seen Erica since I passed out in the garage, but it’s my assumption that she left with Iyanda when the action wrapped and had a lengthy interview, as the only surviving ICM participant in the battle other than the captured Delos. Erica’s perspective would’ve cleared up a lot of lingering questions for the Court.
Doom Sayer Page 23