by E. A. Copen
I rubbed my pounding temples. “Everything is a blur. Warren gave me visions and it’s all mixing in with reality. I don’t know what’s real and what he put in there.”
“Ed Petersen is alive and well. He suffered only very minor injuries. Espinoza’s injuries were quite severe. He’s currently in the room next to yours on life support. The doctors have placed his survivability incredibly low.”
I leaned forward. “And Mara? What about Mara?”
I remembered watching Warren force her to stab herself to death, but it didn’t feel real. Part of me held out, hoping it had all been part of his torturous mind control.
“Tamara Speilman died of multiple self-inflicted stab wounds, Judah. I’m sorry. Genuinely, I am.”
Tears raced down the side of my face. I shut my eyes against them. I’d failed her again. My fingers closed into fists around the hem of the blanket. Dammit, why couldn’t I do anything right? Everyone I cared about got hurt. Ed, Mara, Sal, Hunter… how long would it be before someone else got killed because of me?
I was suddenly aware of the gentle weight of Marcus’ hand on my shoulder. “There is one more thing to discuss. If you’re up for it, of course.”
I tried to still the shaking my shoulders and the tears streaming down my face, pushing them away with a fist. “What?”
“Espinoza. Given the situation, I’m unable to reach out to next of kin and we are faced with a difficult choice. He may die, but he doesn’t have to.”
My head shot up and I glared at the vampire, suddenly understanding his intent. “You mean to turn him?”
Marcus shrugged, withdrawing his hand. “The option is on the table. Of course, a turned vampire has its own drawbacks. He may not survive the turning. Even if he does, he will never be the same. It’s a risk to me as well, especially considering the torture he has been through.”
“You can’t, Marcus.”
“I can. The question is, will I? You see, I’m approached all the time by loved ones in this line of work. The grieving will do anything if it offers even the faintest glimmer of hope to save their loved ones. I have always turned them down. Death is part of the cycle of human life and, most of the time, my interference would make little to no difference. The dying are too aged, too young, too crippled, maimed, their mind’s broken. There are many reasons why I don’t turn patients, even if the next of kin begs me to. But most of all, I don’t do it because it’s involving.” He relaxed and crossed one leg over the other. “You’re a parent. On some level, surely you understand the importance of such a decision. If I turn Espinoza, I am responsible for his well-being. More than that, I would have to give up a significant amount of my already valuable time, something I have no desire to do.”
I sighed, partly out of relief. “Sounds like you don’t want to. Then why are you here asking about him?”
“Because if there is one thing I’ve learned from you, it’s that not wanting to do something is not a good enough reason not to do it.” He steepled his fingers. “Your partner, the Upyri half-blood, seems rather fond of Espinoza. It was him that came to me, which is unusual in itself given the current state of my relationship with the Upyri.”
Abe and Espinoza? That was the most unexpected thing he could have told me. The two of them were as different as night and day. They barely even knew each other. Or maybe they did. Hell, I hadn’t had time to keep tabs on my partner’s social life. They could have moved in together and I’d never have known, not with everything else going on.
Marcus continued. “I won’t bore you with the details, but the political climate puts me in a delicate position.”
“He’s basically Upyri royalty and you’re just some clanless American upstart. You turn his boyfriend, it saves Espinoza’s life in a manner of speaking, but it also means that he’s yours and not part of the Upyri. Have I got that about right?”
Marcus smiled. “Your understanding of our world is always impressive. It is unusual for him to petition me for such an action. I thought at first it was a political move, but I can think of no reason why a human officer would be politically important to the Upyri.”
“It’s my world, too. It’s everyone’s world now.”
Marcus inclined his head. “Indeed. The matter at hand is less political and more philosophical. I cannot come to a firm decision either way and Abraham is clearly biased. I thought perhaps you could offer some insight. Were you in my position, what would you do?”
I looked down at my hands, suddenly even more aware of the oxygen monitor wrapped around my middle finger. The little red light lit up dark capillaries under my skin and nail. Marcus was basically asking me to decide for him. If I said no, I wouldn’t do it, he’d leave Espinoza to his fate. A good cop, one of the best, would likely die on an operating table, barely remembered for his service.
If I said yes, save him, I might be subjecting Espinoza to a life he resented. Maybe he didn’t want to be a vampire, least of all one that belonged to Marcus Kelley. Or maybe he did. I didn’t know how he felt about it because I’d never asked.
I could go back and forth in my head all day, speculating maybe this or maybe that. It wouldn’t help Espinoza. Marcus said he’d already been going back and forth himself. He was a smart guy. He already knew the pros and cons, probably better than I did. Marcus didn’t come to me to have that explained all over again. He came to me so that I could make a tough call.
Did I want Espinoza to die or didn’t I?
I wanted Espinoza to have the choice himself, and he couldn’t do that if he died.
“Espinoza’s a good man,” I said, nodding. “I’d do everything in my power to keep him around as long as he felt like staying around.”
I met Marcus’ eyes and held them. Generally, that’s a bad idea with vampires. They can enthrall people with their gaze and make them do whatever they wanted. Marcus and I had already established what would happen to him if he tried that with me, though, and I knew him well enough to believe he wouldn’t try in this case.
“I’d turn him,” I said.
Marcus stood, smoothed his hands over his suit jacket and buttoned it. “That’s what I thought you would say. I wish you a speedy recovery, Agent Black.”
He stepped toward the door. “Get some rest. Deputy Director Richardson will want to speak to you as soon as you’re well enough to walk.”
~
It was the better part of the night and a good chunk of morning before the nurse thought I was well enough to try and walk. I made it only a few steps across the cold, linoleum floor before the dizziness hit me and I bent over, blind and nauseous.
“That’s it,” said the nurse, coming to my side. “You can’t be up. It’s too soon.”
“Haven’t you heard?” I grunted as I hauled myself along toward the door. “You can’t keep a good gal down.”
She pressed the pager she wore around her neck. “Gonna need some help in here. Bring the sedative.”
“You give me any more drugs and I swear, I’ll be the worst patient you’ve ever had. I want to see Deputy Director Richardson now.”
The nurse narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together. I was sure she was gearing up for a fight, but she surprised me when she opened negotiations. “How about we get you a wheelchair?”
Eventually, we came to a compromise. She would bring me my clothes if I could make it to the wall and back without falling over. I made that nurse eat her words, of course, but the stingy nurse still made me go in a wheelchair part of the way, and she made me go under guard. Once I explained to her that I didn’t want the director to see me as unfit for duty, even though I clearly was, she rolled her eyes and stopped the chair down the hall from where I was to meet the director. “Go on. Kill yourself if you want. I’m sure not going to stop you.”
“If an alpha werewolf and a vampire CEO couldn’t stop me, you shouldn’t feel bad.” I pushed myself out of the chair using my one good arm and stood on wobbly feet. I was still weak after everything, but I cou
ld draw on my magick to keep me going.
The armed guards escorted me to an unmarked set of double doors and held the door open for me. A conference table waited on the other side, lined with comfortable looking leather chairs. Familiar faces occupied the chairs. Sal, Daphne, Shauna, Ed, Angel, Bran and Creven all turned their heads as I hobbled in.
Sal jumped up from his seat and moved toward me. “Judah! God, you have no idea how good it is to see you.” He came to put his arms around me. The weight nearly made me fall over. “They wouldn’t tell us anything.”
I patted his back and then gripped his shirt, choking on whatever words I was trying to say. My eyes were fixed on Ed just beyond as he stared blankly at the tabletop. “Ed?” Sal moved aside to support me as I hobbled over to stand next to Ed. “Ed, I’m sorry.”
“I’d rather not talk about it.” His voice was strained and raw like he’d been crying recently. His shoulders tightened and the hands resting on his knees turned into trembling fists. “Because the minute I know where that coward is hiding, I’m going to go and rip his throat out.”
A chill ran through me. I’d never heard Ed talk like that. Sal and Valentino, sure, but never Ed. He’d always been the one to crack a joke or make light of a tough situation. Even when things looked their worst, I could count on Ed to lift my spirits. There was no hint of that person when he spoke, and when he looked at me, his eyes were completely gold.
Sal pulled me away from Ed. “It’s best you don’t talk to him right now.”
“I’d like to know why we’re all here.” Shauna crossed her arms. She, like everyone else in the room, including me, was dressed in gray sweats and a black t-shirt with a pocket on the chest.
“Mostly, you are here because you have all decided to involve yourselves, despite my warnings not to.”
I turned my head.
Sal growled.
Abe stood in the doorway decked out in his hat and coat. He strode in and placed his hat on the table in front of an empty seat. “Either out of stupidity, stubbornness, or sheer luck, you seven have stumbled into a mess that many with top-level government clearance do not even know about.”
Abe shed his coat and tossed it over the back of the chair before gesturing to another set of empty chairs near him. “Please, sit. Deputy Director Richardson will be with us shortly.”
I remained standing, but leaned on the table with my good arm. “You owe me an explanation.”
Abe didn’t look up from where he was situating several stacks of papers he’d brought with him into piles. “I owe you nothing.”
“You broke my arm!”
“For your own good!”
“And you gave me a concussion.” I pointed to my head.
“That was…” Abe huffed. “Excessive, I admit.” He finally looked up at me, but only after sitting down. “Had I not severely injured you, you would have continued on with your investigation and continued to involve yourself in matters that you were not prepared for. However, it seems that not even a broken limb will keep you out of trouble. I should have known better. I apologize for underestimating your…”
“Stubbornness?” Sal crossed his arms.
“Obstinacy?” Shauna said, mimicking his position.
“General orneriness?” Creven raised his eyebrows.
“I was going to say persistence.” Abe shrugged. “But all of those fit as well.”
I tugged out the chair across from him and sat. “I prefer tenacious.”
Sal sat down in the empty chair next to me. “We’ve been here for two days under guard. It’s time someone told us what the hell is going on.”
Abe leaned back in his chair and surveyed the faces in the room. “During the Revelation Riots, the government sought to form a new branch, what you now know as BSI. With the nation in chaos and funding limited, your government had no choice but to seek outside help.”
“They found that help in an organization known as the Sicarii,” I finished. “An organization of people who call themselves immortals and dedicated their lives to directing and controlling the flow of history. Hector Demetrius and Gideon Reed were members of their ranks. How am I doing so far?”
Ed leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. “Like the Illuminati.” His eyes were still gold, but his posture had relaxed.
“An immature understanding of a complex matter.” Abe waved a dismissive hand. “Conspiracy theorists would have you believe that such an organization works in secret to conceal information toward a nefarious purpose. The Sicarii are an organization of balance. One immortal, one human, one vampire, one fae, and one to represent the shifter races form a council of five to promote understanding, prevent war, and further common goals. They are not world leaders or people who have political ties. This is supposed to be a prerequisite for securing a position. But something changed during the Revelation. An impasse was reached.” Abe lowered his head and tapped a finger on the bill of his hat. “The fae retreated. The vampires waged an internal war and forced their representative into hiding. As a result, the Stryx gained a significant amount of power and have been able to influence far more than they should. In turn, two immortals rose and sought to increase their influence. They went to the government and offered the funds and the means to help create what you now know as BSI.”
“Hector Demetrius and Gideon Reed.” I closed my eyes, my heart dropping into my stomach.
“Two sides of an opposing coin,” Abe agreed. “Hector represented a conservative group within the Sicarii, one that gained much support during the Revelation. Their answer to the supernatural threat was to control it and, if necessary, eliminate the rising influence of the vampires and shifters, drive all the fae back into Faerie, and seal this realm from theirs. Doing so would give the Sicarii complete dominion over humans, which they believed was the only way to maintain peace.
“On the other side, Reed spoke for the smaller, more liberal group of Sicarii that believed peace could be achieved not through overwhelming force and iron will, but love, compassion, and a strong push for universal rights for all sentient beings to live as they saw fit.”
Shauna showed her teeth. “You’re telling me all this is over politics?”
“Aye.” Creven nodded. “But isn’t it always?”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
All heads turned to the doorway where Dick stood with his hands folded in front of him. He’d shed the long gray coat and changed into a charcoal suit.
Abe rose when he saw the deputy director standing there.
Dick wrinkled his nose and waved a hand at Abe. “Sit down, Helsinki. Nobody likes a suck-up.”
Abe sank slowly back into his chair.
“So, politics.” Dick clapped his hands together and then rubbed them as he strode into the room. “As you can see, there have always been opposing sides at work. The divide between them has grown. Even when Gideon Reed stepped aside, he left behind those of us who have made it our life’s work to pursue that dream of equality.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” Ed’s voice came out as a near-inhuman growl. “Shooting down those Adventists as they fled. Every single one of them was under Warren’s control. They were innocent.”
Dick opened his suit jacket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tapped them against his palm until one cigarette dislodged. He plucked it out and tucked the pack away. “Do you know why you’re able to sit in that chair with clean hands and judge me, Mr. Petersen?” Before he answered his own question, he lit the cigarette and blew out a long trail of smoke. Dick waved the cigarette, gesticulating. “My dirty hands bought you that right. I shoulder the weight of hundreds of innocent deaths so that thousands can live a life of relative peace. Unless you’ve worn the mantle of leadership, you have no idea how many difficult decisions you’ll have to make. You’ll never know how many lives you’ll have to take so that others can enjoy a life of mundanity. Isn’t that right, Mr. Silvermoon?”
Sal’s low, rumbling gr
owl rattled my chest.
“Not that I don’t approve. The Vanguard are one of the biggest threats to our continued existence.” Dick nodded to Abe. “As Helsinki informed you, BSI itself is divided along the same lines as the Sicarii. Director West, my superior, is in the far-right camp. As we speak, he and his pet, Senator Grahm, are pushing Congress to approve a second, larger reservation in Alaska. With the conservative majority in Congress, that measure stands to pass with little resistance.”
“What’s so bad about another reservation?” Daphne asked.
“Because the facility in Alaska will be very unlike the Paint Rock project.” Dick took a long drag on his cigarette. “They’re putting it out in the middle of nowhere, accessible only by government helicopter. Far from prying eyes. I also happen to know Doctor Han has been tapped to be the physician on staff. Now, you tell me why that sounds like a bad idea?”
“Jaysus, Peter, Paul and Mary.” Creven rose from his seat. “It’s not a reservation. It’s a bloody internment camp to feed Han and BSI’s research.”
“A breeding ground for their army,” Bran added.
Angel looked left and right before adding, “It’s fucked up, is what it is.”
“It means shutting things down here won’t make any difference.” I made a fist and struck the table. “Not one damn difference.”
“On the contrary,” said Dick, gesturing to me with his cigarette, “you’ve made your opening moves. A little prematurely, yes, but you dealt a strong blow against their side. You’ll deal an even stronger blow by killing Warren before they can extract him.”
“They’re going to use that fucker?” Ed jumped from his seat, toppling the chair.
“They’ll kill him, more like.” Dick shrugged. “Which is what you’ll have to do. Before you think it doesn’t matter who deals the killing blow, consider this. You have no legitimate means of investigation at the moment. All your evidence, every lead you had in the arson case, has been destroyed. The compound went down in a fire and the residents all committed ritual suicide. Or, at least that’s the story the public will be told.” He grinned.