Rogue, Renegade And Rebel (In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service Book 1)

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Rogue, Renegade And Rebel (In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service Book 1) Page 20

by Michael Anderle


  “Why would I change?” she replied. “I was born perfect. I’m sure I’ll die that way.”

  “Oh, we’ll make sure of that,” the second voice told her. “Although you haven’t changed much, I think it’s safe to say that we have.” Another cocky chuckle. “This time, you can’t harm us. This time, we are truly bulletproof.”

  Blinding light attacked Jennie’s eyes as the blindfolds were ripped away from her and Baxter’s heads. Now she knew who was running the show—the Messino brothers.

  Jennie and Baxter knelt in the center of the stage in a harsh cone of light cast by spotlights. Jennie shaded her eyes with a hand and saw the outline of the Messino brothers sitting on the front row of the upper balcony. One of them was leaning over the railing, and the other sat back in his chair with his legs crossed and a smile on his face.

  Gathered behind Jennie and Baxter in a semi-circle were two dozen specters, each with their weapon trained on Jennie and Baxter. Among the lineup, she spotted Rico, Rita and…

  Charles?

  Her mind connected the dots.

  Revolter. It all makes sense now.

  Worthington stood just off the stage, held at gunpoint by two men in suits with severe gunshot wounds.

  Baxter grumbled, his head turning as he counted all the guns targeting him and Jennie. “Ah, man, this is going to hurt.”

  Jennie, meanwhile, simply stared at the balcony with a smile on her face. “Eugenio. Carmelo. How long has it been?”

  “Too long,” Eugenio told her, rising from his seat and making his way down the stairs toward the stage. “You know, I have to thank you, Rogue. You did us a favor all those years ago. I couldn’t see it at the time, but the years passed, and old wounds healed. Now we’ve got much more to be grateful for.”

  Carmelo followed his brother down the stairs, still clearly the quieter of the two.

  “Oh? What’s that?” Jennie asked as several more specters appeared from the doors to the wings and the lobby. “You’ve finally learned not to kidnap young girls from their families where they’ll be abused all their life? I see you’ve upgraded to using the unfortunates to get your way. Where are you keeping the pimps?”

  Eugenio reached the front row and took a seat in the center. His brother joined him shortly after. “Oh, no. No pimps. Just hos. Addicts. Convicts. Those who the city failed to help, and who deserve another chance in the afterlife. I like to think of it as an afterlife rehabilitation program in the name of Queen Victoria.”

  Jennie cocked her head. “I keep hearing Her Majesty’s name thrown around in this city, but there’s one thing I can’t work out.”

  “What’s that?” Eugenio asked.

  “Why?” Jennie replied. “If Queen Victoria sent me to deal with the rising number of non-aligned specters, why would she bother dealing with dirtbags like you?”

  Eugenio grinned and turned to his brother.

  Carmelo finally spoke up. “It’s a pretty sweet deal, actually. Did you know that Queen Victoria is the longest-serving paranormal monarch ever to have existed? Yeah, it’s true.”

  Jennie rolled her eyes. “A history lesson from a kid. Perfect.” She sighed. “Very well, continue.”

  “Have you never wondered why that is?” He began to count on his fingers. “George II took the paranormal throne from 1760–1820. He held it for sixty years, until George III died and inherited it.

  “George III held it from 1820–1830. That’s ten years. George IV held it from 1830–1837. That’s seven years. William IV held it from 1837–1901. That’s sixty-four years, the longest any paranormal king or queen has held the throne.”

  “Until Victoria,” Eugenio cut in as though this whole thing had been rehearsed. “In life, she held the record for the longest-running British monarch of her time. Quite a feat, really. Over half a century of ruling the British people.”

  Carmelo lowered his hands, a mocking grin on his face. “But she had one fatal flaw, didn’t she? In extending her rule, she lessened that of her successor. Edward VII died just nine years later, giving Queen Victoria only nine years to rule as queen of the Winter Court.” He shook his head. “Such a sad, sad thing.”

  “So, what to do when her eldest remaining heir dies and appears at her door in the Winter Court? Nine years is a short time to rule in the afterlife when you were the longest ruler of the British Empire in life.”

  Jennie remained silent, her lips tightening. She felt a wave of anger roiling deep inside her but knew she needed to hear the rest of the tale. She had always wondered how the line of succession worked for the court. She had even asked a few people in her time, but had been met with silence and fear.

  Baxter growled, following their train of thought. “She hires men like you.”

  Carmelo turned to Baxter, impressed. “Well done, Brutus.” He chuckled.

  Eugenio kept his attention on Jennie. “Did you really think we had no motive for doing the things we did in life? Your queeny made a deal with us.” He was fighting back laughter now, reveling in the success of his capture of Rogue. “She turned a blind eye to our deeds in life. In return, we promised to force any of the men and women we killed to swear undying fealty to the Winter Court. A promise of a life after death, serving under Her Majesty.”

  Baxter gasped. “You were building an army.”

  Jennie kept her eyes fixed on the pair. “And after death?”

  Eugenio grinned once more, the sight of it predatory.

  Jennie likened it to being face to face with a shark.

  “A promise of a new life,” Eugenio told her. “A deal that my brother and I would be sent across the Atlantic to live our lives as we pleased—under the proviso that we provide a regular supply of specters to the Winter Court, of course.”

  “I don’t understand,” Baxter whispered to Jennie, not that it prevented his words from reverberating around an auditorium designed to carry sound. “If the queen had a deal with them, why would she send you to stop them when they were alive?”

  Jennie took a calming breath, fighting to maintain her controlled center. “She didn’t.”

  “No, that’s right!” Eugenio declared dramatically, standing and pointing his finger at Jennie. “That was an unhappy accident, wasn’t it? Another example of how your disobedience of orders and refusing to let go got you into trouble. Queeny didn’t want you to pursue us, did she?”

  Jennie shrugged. “Nope.”

  “But you did it anyway, didn’t you?” he pressed.

  “The hole in your stomach says yes,” Jennie replied.

  Eugenio looked like he might lose his cool for a moment. “And now here we are, forced to deal with a nuisance who keeps turning up and interfering with things better ignored.” The grin returned to his face. “But not for much longer, eh?” He sat next to his brother and waved a hand. “Men. Women. On with the show.”

  Several dozen guns were cocked at that moment, all of them ready to spray bullets into the mortal and the specter who had gotten in their way. The tension was thick.

  “And, action!” Carmelo hissed.

  Before the first specter fired, the spotlights went out, leaving the theater in darkness.

  “What’s going on?” Eugenio shouted, his voice laced with rage. “What’s happening? Shoot, damn you. Shoot!”

  The specters fired at the stage. The sound of bullets splintering wood filled the auditorium. After several strobe-like muzzle flashes, it became clear to the group that something was wrong.

  Jennie and Baxter were gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rico couldn’t believe this was happening again.

  He hadn’t even been invisible. Hadn’t even been harnessing his innate spectral gift to disappear completely from sight, yet somehow the bitch had latched onto him and drained his power.

  He could see the auditorium around him as though he were driving at warp speed, each individual specter flickering in his line of sight.

  Jennie drew closer to him, using his energy
to make her and her companion invisible while also pulling the big lummox behind her.

  Rico felt paralyzed; his movements weren’t his own. He was shocked into stillness by her power as she passed him and gave a cheeky wink, then disappeared behind him with Baxter in tow.

  I swear to all the gods, bitch, if you don’t release me now, I’ll… I’ll…

  You’ll what? Jennie’s reply rang in his head. Send me into the afterlife? Try it. See what happens.

  Rico gulped as Jennie released her connection to him, and found himself slumped on the floor, the stage torn into holes by his comrades’ gunfire.

  He lay back, only half-hearing the cries of anger from his bosses. He did, however, clearly hear Jennie utter the single word that would set off the chain reaction for the rest of the fight.

  Jennie reappeared behind the row of specters on the stage, her arms in the air as though she were mimicking a bear. “Boo,” she called loud enough to startle those around her.

  Before the first specter could turn around and point the barrel of his gun at Jennie, she laced her arm through the crook of his and twisted it behind his back.

  The gun fell from his hand and she swooped to catch it, ducking just in time to avoid a shot fired at her head.

  Baxter slammed the specter with his wrench. He used the momentum to swing his wrench at the person beside him, then quickly maneuvered to take a shot at a guy several feet down the line who held another assault rifle and looked as though he didn’t care who he mowed down with it.

  I suppose that makes sense. It’s not like us specters won’t find a way to heal…I hope.

  The assault rifle flew out of the specter’s hands and over toward the seating.

  Jennie, unfazed by the gunfire, managed to block another specter who had decided he would use his handgun to bash her over the head.

  She threw her head forward and knocked him into a group of specters about to take a shot.

  “Get her, you idiots!” Eugenio raged.

  Jennie looked up at the lights and sent another wave of energy toward them. They went out as shots were fired. Cries of pain came from the specters.

  Jennie chuckled quietly, already using her mental image of everyone’s position to move around in the darkness. She made sure to fire a bullet in Charles’ direction before catching two specters by the hair and whacking their heads together, the impact making a satisfying sound like two coconuts colliding.

  She jumped to the left, anticipating the charge of a gaunt specter who held a knife.

  When she had just about exhausted her memory, she allowed the lights to flash several times like strobe lights.

  On the other side of the stage, Baxter held a man’s arms behind his back and ran at Rita, using him as a shield.

  Rita dived out of the way, her gun falling from her hand as she let out a scream.

  All of this happened in a few chaotic seconds that threw the specters into disarray. As each lightning flash occurred, Jennie examined the battlefield to make herself aware of the specters flooding toward the stage from the balconies, the wings, and behind the curtain. They hadn’t yet come close to using their full number.

  Which was fine by Jennie. She didn’t need to take down a hundred specters. She needed to take down two.

  She looked at the spot where Eugenio and Carmelo had been sitting and saw that they were on their feet, fear on their faces as they prepared to run. “Hey, arseholes,” she called. “Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

  Their pace quickened at the sound of her voice. They ran down the row of seats, stumbling as their feet caught the legs of the chairs.

  “Very well.” Jennie leveled her pistol. “The hard way, it is.”

  She lined up the shot and was about to pull the trigger when she heard a shout from behind her. The next thing she knew, she had been wrestled to the floor, and the weight of a specter pinned her to the ground.

  She rolled over and felt Worthington’s fuzzy bearskin tickling her face.

  Jennie shoved her specter off of her. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving you from making a huge mistake,” Worthington told her.

  “They’re convicted criminals. Lowlifes. They trafficked women in life, and now they’re forcing people to join the paranormal court. Can’t you push your loyalties to the queen aside and see that what they’re doing is wrong?”

  Worthington looked pained. “I’m sorry, Jennie. You’ve meddled beyond your jurisdiction.” He sighed. “This could have been easy.”

  He rose to his feet and aimed his gun at Jennie’s face. Where he had found it, she had no idea.

  There was more commotion on the stage as Baxter used the strobing lights to his advantage. He had taken a shot to his wrench arm, but with his stature and strength, he was managing to lift and throw the recovering addicts like they weighed nothing.

  “This is easy,” Jennie told Worthington. She latched her power onto his and ripped the gun from his hands in one swift motion.

  Worthington raised his hands in defense. “You took an oath,” A ghostly tear rolled down his cheek. “To obey the crown and Queen Victoria’s rule. What right do you have to cause this disruption and upset among the spectral community? It’s not your place, Jennie.”

  “I never took a fucking oath,” Jennie snapped, pointing the gun at the center of Worthington’s head. “All these years, I’ve served the queen, believing that what she was doing was right and true. Kicking ass in the name of Her Majesty and ensuring that justice prevailed is my life. Yet, for all those years, she’s been subverting her own system and allowing thugs like these shits to help her keep her throne? Where’s the justice in that?”

  Worthington’s mouth dropped open. “You never took an oath?”

  Jennie shook her head, aware of the specters around her motioning to the others to turn their attention to their true enemy. “My loyalties are my own. My only mistress is Justice.”

  Worthington cried out in alarm as the report rang around the theater. He opened his eyes, surprised to see that Jennie was over the far side of the theater, disappearing in the direction of the Messino brothers.

  Baxter jumped off the stage and followed her.

  The brothers weren’t difficult to find.

  Even in death, the brothers were slow. They hadn’t taken care of their health in life, and that had translated to their spectral forms. Jennie followed the trail of spectral energy and soon caught up with them in the theater’s bar. They were about to disappear through the wall when Jennie closed her eyes and reached out with both her hands and her power to control them.

  She channeled her energy the same way she had all those years ago with the little ghost girl at the Savoy, a skill that had grown over the years as she harnessed and refined her power.

  Eugenio and Carmelo tried to fight the connection but were dragged back into the room.

  Jennie commandeered their spirits and forced them down onto two nearby chairs, where they stared at her with darkness in their eyes.

  “You know you can’t kill us twice.” Eugenio grinned. “To kill a specter? Now, that takes a special kind of gift.”

  “And think of the queen,” Carmelo reminded her. “What will she think when she finds out what you’ve done?”

  Jennie remained silent, considering. Her mind flashed back to the last time she had encountered the brothers and how easy it had been to kill them and free the girls, but they were right. What could she do?

  Ordinarily, she would find a way to bind their spirits and send them to the paranormal court to be tried and serve their sentence. But now, knowing what she knew about the queen, how could she send these men to her?

  “Er, Jennie? Not to rush you, but I think we’re about to have company.”

  Jennie strained her ears and heard the excited cries of the specters sprinting through the theater toward them.

  Eugenio laughed darkly. “Give up, Rogue. You’re surrounded.”

  Jennie waited patiently as th
e first specters arrived through the walls. The gusto with which they entered the room soon dissipated when they saw their bosses pinned to their chairs. They trained their weapons on Jennie, ready to shoot at the command of the brothers.

  The room filled up. Soon there were over sixty specters gathered around Jennie, Eugenio, and Carmelo, yet Jennie held Eugenio’s gaze.

  Eugenio stared unblinkingly into her eyes. “So, what’ll it be? Death, or death?”

  Jennie closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. She felt their energy around her as a physical force, a great cloud of power made from the energy of each specter gathered around.

  The power hummed inside her. She scanned the specters, searching for the right one to give her what she needed to fix this situation and achieve the desired outcome.

  But all she could see were the faces of the addicts. All she could smell was the fetid stench of death from the dressing rooms. As hard as she tried to calm herself, Victoria’s face popped into her mind as the source of this injustice—the snake in the grass who had used Jennie’s unshaken faith over the years to get her to perform her tasks.

  And then the girls. Those sweet girls who deserved nothing more than love from the families they were so crudely torn away from. Prepared to be used and abused because of these two scumbags. How many girls had there been before the ones she’d rescued? How many more would suffer at the hands of the immortal Messino brothers?

  Jennie felt the power drawing toward her like some sentient thing. Trails of spectral energy pulled her way as words in Latin came to her mind and began to play on her tongue. Her mouth moved, and she whispered the words of a long-dead language.

  “Deus est;

  Et inimicos eorum dispersus est

  et eos, qui oderunt eum, a facie ejus.

  Ut impellere fumum,

  pulsi sunt;

  liquescit cera a facie ignis

  et peccatores coram Deo.”

  The words grew louder, and the room began to fill with light.

 

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