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

by Michael Anderle

  “The closer we are to danger, the further we are from harm,” Jennie replied dryly.

  Lupe’s eyebrow arched. “Wasn’t that a line from The Lord of the Rings?”

  “The Two Towers, I think,” Jennie replied. “You know, I actually met Billy Boyd not long after he took that part. Nervous thing, he was, but he managed to do a fantastic job, don’t you think?”

  Baxter shook his head and laughed.

  “What?” Jennie asked.

  “Nothing.” Baxter turned his attention to Lupe.

  “Seriously, aren’t we playing it a little close to home?” Lupe continued. “We exit from this place, and the queen will be straight onto us.”

  Jennie returned her attention to the map. The layout confused the Americans greatly, considering there seemed to be no real order to the city whatsoever. Where New York was built on a grid, London’s layout might as well have been drawn by a child.

  Jennie took them all through the hotspots on the map, outlining the methodology the queen had employed for her protection. Over the years, the queen had grown complacent in her protection, having ultimate control over the city and most of Western Europe.

  Now, Jennie placed clusters of pins in the hotspots where she knew specters would be on the lookout. She also noted George’s information that specters across the city had been alerted, and therefore the main streets would be off-limits.

  “That doesn’t leave us with too many options,” Lupe insisted. The map was now covered in red pins. “We’re sitting ducks. The minute we leave this pond, we’ll be seen.”

  “What a beautiful analogy,” Jennie told him with fake sincerity. “You could be a poet.”

  Lupe shot her a sour look. “I was a poet, once.”

  Jennie looked at him in surprise, then shrugged. “I guess even the Phantom of the Opera loved his music.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Lupe snapped.

  “So, what’s our plan?” Baxter interjected before things got heated. “How are you planning to bypass all of the queen’s guards? You’ve said it yourself; she’ll have eyes everywhere. Everyone in the city knows what you look like.”

  “Actually, that’s not entirely true,” Jennie replied. “Most of my dealings were with the queen or her advisors directly. There may be a few in the palace who know exactly what I look like, but everyone else will be working off a description. That can be easily remedied.”

  Carolyn clapped excitedly. “Your costumes?”

  Jennie chuckled. “In a manner of speaking. I’ve got plenty of outfits that should mask my identity, so that’s part of it, but it’ll only get me so far. I’ve also got something else in mind.”

  “What is it?” Lupe asked.

  Jennie shook her head. “That’s for me to know and you to find out later. We’re going to have to split up for a short time, okay?”

  “Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Baxter mumbled.

  Jennie laughed. “It’s always nice when your team has confidence in you, isn’t it? This is why I always worked solo. Look, I need to do this, okay? I won’t be gone for long. A day or two tops. In the meantime, I need you three to do me a favor.”

  “And what’s that?” Lupe asked skeptically.

  “You can be the reconnaissance team,” Jennie told him. “No one here knows who you are yet. Scout the streets around the palace and see for yourself where the specters are keeping watch. Keep a low profile and report your findings when I get back. Any firsthand information we can get on the situation will be invaluable.”

  “What about your friend?” Lupe demanded. “What if he leads the queen’s army here and rats us out?”

  Jennie’s face straightened. “If that does happen, we’re not going to be here for the next twenty-four hours, and I imagine Queeny won’t exactly hang around with capturing me if she does catch wind of our location. This way, we get shit done, we keep ourselves safe, and we protect ourselves and learn whether George is truly on our side.”

  “I thought you said you trust him?” Carolyn pointed out.

  Jennie grinned. “Oh, I do, but you can never be too careful. Remember, I trusted the queen for over a hundred years. People let you down.”

  Lupe scoffed. “That’s reassuring.”

  Jennie clapped her hands and stood up. “Well, if we’re all clear on who’s doing what, I suppose we better get our arses in gear. We’ve got a court to unravel.”

  “One more thing.” Baxter rose from his seat. “You said the three of us could do you a favor. There are four of us.”

  Jennie patted Baxter’s arm. “Oh, Bax. Did you really think I’d go on my mission solo? I need you, buddy. Saddle up.”

  On the highest level of Jennie’s house was a small door. Carolyn and the others hadn’t noticed it before since its color matched the walls around it, but now Jennie gave the door a nudge and it opened.

  Behind the door was a small crawl space that rose up a steep slope and met a wall with a combination lock. This she spun until it clicked, and she backed aside to allow Lupe to crawl through while the others floated through the walls.

  “You guys be safe, okay?” Jennie instructed, passing Lupe a cell phone. It was simple and black. A burner phone. “Take this. I’ve put the number from my own phone in there. It’s the only one in there, codename, ‘Drina.’”

  “Drina?” Lupe asked.

  Jennie shook her head. “Long story. Queen Victoria’s real name is Alexandrina.”

  “What?” Carolyn exclaimed.

  “No time for that,” Jennie urged with a smile. “If you need me, call me. Start the conversation with the phrase, ‘Hey baby, just thought I’d check in,’ if everything is okay. If something’s wrong, open with, ‘Hey, guuurl.’”

  Lupe gave her an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

  Jennie’s face told him she was. “Oh, one more thing. There’s a spare key on the inside of the door above the fire alarm lever.”

  Jennie closed the door behind her and left Lupe to crawl out of the escape door. He coughed on a thin haze of dust around him, eventually clambering out into a small janitorial cupboard.

  Something fell on top of Lupe, and he panicked. He kicked the object away and made the metal bucket sing. He stood up sharply, scrambling up the walls, and saw that the object had been nothing more than a broom.

  Carolyn giggled. “Way to not draw attention to yourself.”

  Lupe glared at her, then pressed his ear against the door and listened out for anyone on the other side.

  “I think it’s clear,” he whispered just as Feng Mian floated through the wall and gave a swift nod of his head. “Oh, yeah. Forgot you guys could just check the coast for me.”

  The theater was empty at that time of day. They snuck through the corridors, and up some stairs that led them out the wings of the majestic space. Carolyn peered around the thick red curtains and was struck by the golden décor and the rows upon rows of red velvet chairs.

  “I can see why Jennie has such a fascination with this place,” Carolyn breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

  Lupe grunted, clearly not taken with the prestige. They left the stage and walked up the aisle in the center to the stairs at the far end of the theatre.

  They hurried through the reception, where Lupe rooted around for the key above the door and unlocked it.

  It was early morning. Black cab taxis queued outside the adjacent Savoy Hotel, and the concierge gave Lupe a strange look as he opened the glass doors. He nodded at the concierge. “Random security check,” he told him before locking the door and speeding down the street.

  London unfolded before them. The sun had barely risen, and the sky was a patchwork of purples and pinks. People passed them with briefcases in hand on their way to work. Cars rumbled past, and cyclists sped down the narrow sides of the roads.

  Lupe looked around, feeling suddenly very far from home. “Well, we’re outside. Where do we start?”

  Carolyn’s face lit up. “The London Eye? Ooo, ho
w about the London Dungeons? Big Ben? The Houses of Parliament? The Gherkin?”

  “You know we’re not here to sight-see?” Lupe reminded her. “We’re on a reconnaissance mission. That means we stick to the plan and scout what’s going on around us.”

  “I know,” Carolyn replied, unabashed. “That doesn’t mean we can’t take slight detours and see some sights, does it? We need to get a lay of the land, so what’s your problem?”

  Lupe grumbled. “I don’t think that’s wise. We have to remain focused. We’ll skirt the perimeter of the palace, to begin with. When that’s done, well, we’ll see.”

  They took a left and turned onto Carting Lane. As they took their time studying the sights around them, Carolyn let out a squeal and ran ahead to where the buildings parted and the River Thames appeared before them.

  Lupe caught up with her and took a deep breath when he saw the Thames. The river was wider than he’d thought. On the left was the Waterloo Bridge, and across the water, they could see the London Eye slowly turning on its axis.

  Not too far from that, on their side of the water, they could just make out the needled top of Big Ben.

  “Which direction are we meant to be heading?” Carolyn asked excitedly.

  Lupe unfolded his copy of the map and sighed. “Right.”

  Carolyn winked. “Toward the sights?”

  Lupe nodded and folded the map away. “I suppose so.”

  Carolyn squealed again. “You know the London Eye is now sponsored by Coca-Cola? Yeah, it’s now officially called the Coca-Cola London Eye.”

  Lupe scoffed. “That’s stupid.”

  “Hey, it’s not like the US is much different when it comes to sponsorships, is it? ‘American Airlines Center,’ ‘Bank of America Stadium,’ ‘Minute Maid Park.’ Need I go on?”

  “Where’s Minute Maid Park?” Lupe asked incredulously.

  “Houston,” Carolyn replied.

  Lupe’s gaze wandered as a boat cruised by on the water. A gull cried overhead.

  “Okay, fine,” he conceded. “We can see some of the landmarks. But can you please focus on searching for specters who may be on the lookout for Jennie while we do?”

  Carolyn nodded vigorously. “Of course. Sorry.”

  “Right.” Lupe gave a curt nod and studied the roads and streets around them. “It’s surprisingly quiet at the minute.”

  Feng Mian tapped his shoulder and nodded toward the roof of the nearby building. In their spectral forms, they almost melted into the sky behind them, but Lupe could make out two specters standing like silent sentinels, their eyes cast down toward the group.

  Lupe pulled his eyes away.

  “Do you think they suspect anything?” Carolyn asked.

  Lupe shook his head and began walking toward the Waterloo Bridge. “Not,” he reassured them. “As far as they’re concerned, we’re just a bunch of tourists visiting London.” He paused, then added. “Maybe you two should walk several paces back and stop talking directly to me. We don’t want to arouse any more suspicion.”

  Carolyn and Feng Mian agreed, falling in step several meters behind Lupe.

  As he walked, Lupe withdrew his map and marked a small red X in the place where the sentinels stood. He could still feel their eyes on him as they crossed over the bridge and made their way closer to the London Eye.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  The Lost Tunnels, England

  Baxter couldn’t understand how Jennie knew where she was going. She wandered past a hundred junctions and turnings and didn’t lose an ounce of confidence in her way. Her footsteps echoed, and the dark tried to invade the torchlight.

  A couple of times along the way, rumbling came from above. Baxter grew used to this over time, but he didn’t grow any further confidence in the integrity of the tunnel when loose dirt fell from above.

  After an hour or so, Jennie paused and touched her finger to her chin.

  “Lost?” Baxter asked.

  Jennie gave a derisive snort. “Please. No, I’m just deciding which way would be best to go.”

  “That’s easy,” Baxter answered as he turned between the three paths that forked off from their location. “We could go that way, that way, or that way.”

  Jennie smirked. “Helpful.”

  Baxter made a flourishing bow. “I try.”

  Jennie remained silent a moment longer, deliberating her decision.

  “What’s the dilemma?” Baxter asked, dropping the clown act.

  Jennie pointed left. “Well, this way brings us closer to where we need to be, but the exit point is in the basement floors of a very popular football stadium.”

  “You guys play NFL here?”

  “Not American Football, football.” Jennie mimed kicking a ball with her foot.

  Baxter stared at her blankly.

  “Soccer?” Jennie clarified.

  Baxter grinned as understanding dawned for him. “Oh! Soccer. Why didn’t you say so? You guys love soccer, right?”

  “No!” Jennie snapped. “We like football. The game where you kick a ball with your foot and can’t touch it with any other part of your body unless you’re the goalkeeper.”

  Baxter laughed. “You Brits are weird.”

  “We invented football,” Jennie informed him hotly. “Hundreds of years before you guys stole the name. We can call it what we please.”

  As much as Baxter knew they were there for a reason, the opportunity to rile Jennie was too good to pass up. “Soccer is easier for me to remember.”

  “Soccer is a lie,” Jennie retorted. “Besides, you guys barely kick the ball in the NFL. You pick it up with your hands, run at each other, and occasionally kick it when you’re near the end zone. At least in football, it’s all feet.”

  “I didn’t know you had a foot fetish,” Baxter quipped.

  Jennie grew visibly annoyed. “Football is football!”

  “Hold on, don’t you guys have a thing here a little like the NFL? A game where you pick up a normal-shaped ball and throw it and kick it?”

  “It’s called rugby!” Jennie exclaimed, her voice loud enough to echo around the tunnels.

  Baxter snorted and shook his head. “Man, are you guys confused on this side of the pond.”

  Jennie glared at Baxter and took a steadying breath. “Whatever you want to call it, here are our options. Number one, we open up into a football stadium and risk being seen by thousands of Chelsea fans, as well as the crown, given that this is a high-profile area. Or, number two, we come out of the bathrooms in the back of an old pub and have a bit further to walk.”

  “Wow,” Baxter remarked. “So, number two is ‘become a reverse number two?’”

  Jennie shot him a sour look. “Don’t be a child.”

  Baxter lifted his hands. “I opt for number two.”

  Jennie rolled her eyes and took the path leading straight ahead.

  The silence pressed in on them like an enemy as they walked. Baxter’s mind wandered back to the time they had spent together in New York. He had never been this far away from home, and he now felt the strangeness of the city around him.

  “I still can’t believe how fucked up this all is,” he thought aloud. “This time last month, I was happy floating between theaters and checking out the latest sound imports used to project audio across large arena-style halls. Now…”

  “Now the paranormal world is fucked. I know.” Jennie concentrated on her direction as she spoke and. “You know, I’ve served the paranormal court for over a hundred years. I’ve fought poltergeists, Bhoots, wraiths, specters, humans, you name it, but never once did I stop to contemplate that it was in the name of a corrupt system.”

  “You didn’t have any inkling?” Baxter asked. “Nothing ?”

  Jennie shook her head. “Not really. The queen’s rule is strong in Europe. Those who step out of line really step out of line. It’s hard to argue with the removal of nuisances who decide to meet their end in a display of destruction and violence. All these years, I’ve bee
n removing drug cartels, mobsters, the corrupt beings of the spectral world. How could I have seen that the one who sits at the head of the spectral world is the most corrupt of all?”

  She stared at Baxter with solemn eyes, waiting for an answer he didn’t have.

  “I don’t know,” Baxter replied as they bore left past a series of symbols on the wall depicting a fish and crowds of people sketched in black. “It’s always been different in the US. I mean, the paranormal court was seen as the authority, but that was years ago. It seemed like the queen cares more about our European cousins, and so organizations have been trying to create some alternative structure for ages. It just so happened that the Spectral Plane was the first to really make headway.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “It was inevitable, really—the uprising. It’s been obvious for years that the queen was only really interested in what was nearby. All of her efforts to communicate with us had been half-assed and washy.”

  Jennie turned a corner, then stopped and looked at Baxter. “You know she’s got contacts within the US Government, right? She may have grown lax on the spectral side until late, but she’s been working with the US Government for over ten years now.”

  “You don’t say,” Baxter exclaimed. “In what way?”

  Jennie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s never been my business to know, so I’ve let it lie. My focus was always on my mission. No one else’s. Let the queen play her politics. As long as I could live in peace and do my thing, I was happy.”

  Baxter sighed. “Look how that turned out for you.”

  “Right?” Jennie agreed.

  “At least with that new costume, you might stand a chance.” Baxter looked Jennie up and down, still unable to believe how different she looked.

  After the others had left, Jennie had taken a selection of costume items from her rails and decked herself out in what she defined as “modern” clothing.

  This meant ditching both her charity shop finds, and her leather pants and corset, in favor of some more “comfortable” jeans. Her boots were hidden beneath the legs of the pants, and she now wore a dark wig cut in a classic bob. She still wore glasses, although the frames were now more angular and twenty-first century, and she once again used Baxter’s spectral energy to hide the weapons attached to her hips.