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

by Michael Anderle

  Someone lit a match nearby, and the room was thrown into a glum light. There was a little over a dozen of them gathered around the trio in a wide circle. One of them stood closer than the rest, nursing his fist.

  Carolyn’s breath caught in her chest. The match was extinguished, and darkness took hold once more. What she had seen had to have been impossible. Every last one of their enemies looked perfectly identical. Every last one of them bore an uncanny resemblance to Karl.

  Another blow connected and Carolyn swung her arms wildly in the darkness, hoping to hit something. Anything.

  She spun at a sense of movement behind her, but just before the fist connected with her again, a flash of blue light lit the room and the specter was deflected by Feng Mian’s shield.

  “Thanks,” Carolyn uttered, thrown off by what she was seeing. In that unexpected flash of light, each specter had their own identity. She saw men and women and teens, fat and thin, short and tall, each from different time periods.

  What the fuck is going on?

  Another specter came at her, and there was another flash from Feng Mian. This time, Carolyn was ready. She caught the bewildered specter in a headlock, spun behind him, and held his throat tight.

  She had no idea what she was doing; it was all instinctual. Holding tightly, she slammed him to the ground and hooked a fist around, smacking the guy in the cheek continually. “Let’s make this even, shall we? One. Two. Three. Ah, how’s four for luck?”

  “They weren’t all me, bitch,” the specter managed between blows.

  Carolyn laughed. “Still, you’re the only one I have right now, so lucky you! You win the bonus prize.”

  When she punched the specter, Feng Mian’s shield flashed around her as the other specters joined in to try to save their friend. Carolyn waited until the specter went limp, then used the flashes to navigate her way back to Feng Mian, who was now defending both himself and Carolyn from the attack.

  Lupe stood near the ladder, swinging the pistol in his hand around the room. The weapon was about as useful as a dead fish at this point. It’s not like he had Jennie’s abilities to make the bullets hurt specters.

  Another match was struck, and once again, every specter took on the same form, only this time they became Mona. Carolyn looked into the flawless faces of over a dozen specters attacking her in cocktail dresses. The specter she had left on the floor now matched her form, too.

  “What the hell is going on?” she shouted into the darkness when the match was extinguished. The effect was disorienting, to say the least.

  Carolyn grew angrier by the second. The blue flashes from the shield came rapidly as strobe lights as the specters increased the frequency of their attacks on Carolyn and Feng Mian.

  “Come closer. Now,” Feng Mian called, his voice unusually calm, given the situation.

  Lupe and Carolyn gathered themselves to him. The specter attacks were unrelenting. Faces flashed all around them as the attackers were bounced back by Feng Mian’s shields.

  Occasionally Carolyn and Feng Mian managed to punch and damage one of the loyalists, but was it enough?

  “Hold tight,” Feng Mian muttered, and for the first time since Carolyn had met him, anger crossed over his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, muttering words in a language that sounded like Chinese. When he was done, he opened his eyes, thrust out his hands, and shouted, “Obake!”

  The shield materialized around them in a glow of blue. Now the entire room was lit, Carolyn saw they were in a space that was easily the size of a modest house. The specters surrounding them gasped as the shield pulsed outward in waves of ghostly blue, each pulse pushing them back until they were sitting on the floor pinned to the walls.

  Cries of distress rang out across the room. Carolyn watched without pity as the crown specters struggled to escape with each new pulse of spectral energy.

  “Okay, enough!” Karl cried.

  Feng Mian cut off his attack.

  A match lit at the far side of the room, and Karl and Mona, looking disheveled and exhausted, advanced toward them with crooked smiles on their faces. “Enough, please. You’ve proven yourselves.”

  “We’ve proven ourselves?” Lupe grunted. “We’ve… It was you who were supposed to be proving yourselves to us, and all you’ve done is taken us captive and attacked us.”

  He aimed his gun at the specters, but they showed no signs of fear.

  “That’s an impressive power,” Mona remarked to Feng Mian in awe. “Shields. I’ve not seen anything like that before in my life.”

  “It has been a long time since I’ve encountered an Obake.” Feng Mian gave a curt bow.

  “What are you talking about?” Carolyn asked. “What’s an Obake? Who are you guys?”

  Karl nodded at someone in the corner, and a specter came out of the shadows and walked around the room to light the candles. The flickering light took the edge off what had felt like a warped scene from a movie just moments ago.

  “Obake is a traditional Japanese term for shapeshifters,” Karl explained. “It is a word I have not heard in years, but one which rings with truth all the same. The Obake are shapeshifters. Specters with the ability to morph and take on the form of those around us. Those who we wish to represent and mimic as we go through the after-life.”

  “Oh…” Lupe muttered.

  “What?” Carolyn asked, still confused by the whole thing.

  Lupe looked hard at the couple. “These are not your true identities, are they Karl? Mona? Those specters we saw outside. You tricked them, didn’t you?”

  Karl grinned and transformed before their eyes. His sunglasses remained, but his stubble disappeared even as his bone structure shifted, and standing before them was a clean-shaven man with a square jaw and a wide nose. His clothes shifted, too, and now he wore a dark tracksuit stained with blood.

  The woman in the cocktail dress and high heels was also now gone, and in her place was a woman with dark skin and a head of tight brown curls. She wore a pencil skirt and a shirt with flowery cuffs.

  “Guilty,” Karl grinned.

  “Guilty,” Mona echoed.

  “Your real names?” Lupe asked.

  Carolyn rubbed her brow. “Their names are fake, too?”

  Karl chuckled, then held out his hand to Lupe. “Nice to meet you. I’m Angus Connor.”

  “Paige Turner,” the woman offered.

  “Paige Turner?” Carolyn repeated skeptically. “As in, you turn pages really fast? You’ve got to be friggin’ kidding me. Have I just fallen into a dream? What the fuck is all of this?”

  “Sorry for the ruse,” Angus told them. “But we are a group of specters living outside the law. For the last few decades, Paige and I have been searching the city for others like us. Specters who have the ability to shapeshift and can use our talents for good. We are the only members of an ancient order passed down from our forebears in Japan.”

  “Neither of you looks Japanese,” Lupe pointed out.

  Paige rolled her eyes. “It’s not a case of genetic heritage. Obake is a rare ability that originated in Japan but has spread across the world. It’s incredibly difficult to find another who can shapeshift, but it’s a skill which has proven itself to be useful.”

  “We’ve seen things,” Angus told them.

  “What kind of things?” Lupe asked.

  “Hold on!” Carolyn rubbed her cheek, the memory of the attack still fresh on her face. “You attacked us, remember! Why are we even standing here listening to you?”

  Angus’ regret was clear, as was his resolve. “We had to know you could take care of yourselves. Obake are incredibly rare, and we need those with us who can defend and protect themselves as well as help us. Specters who can hold their own. In case you haven’t noticed, things are getting tense out there. The last thing we need is to be carrying around liabilities in our order.”

  Carolyn considered this. While it wasn’t the friendliest introduction, she certainly understood the need to ensure
that people could look out for themselves, particularly in these times.

  “But why us?” she asked. “There are hundreds of specters out there, and you’ve picked us to introduce to your super-secret order of the bukake?”

  “O-ba-key,” Angus corrected. “And it’s two-fold, really. Number one, you guys clearly aren’t in any way associating yourself with those bastards in the Winter Court.”

  “And, number two,” Paige finished, pointing at Lupe, “do you understand how rare it is to find a conduit these days? The only known conduit to have existed in London for the last several centuries has been…”

  “Rogue,” Carolyn finished.

  “Exactly. And she’s not exactly what you’d expect from a typical conduit.”

  Lupe examined himself, clearly unsure whether to take offense or not. “Thanks?”

  “Okay.” Carolyn waved a hand then pinched the bridge of her nose. “So, let me get all of this straight. You guys are some weird, secret order of the Obake, and you’re hiding down in tunnels because you don’t want to be found by the Winter Court. You can all shapeshift, and you decided to bring us down here to introduce you to your order because we have a conduit. I’m guessing you want a favor from us somewhere along the line, because why else would you drag us all the way down into your super-secret dingy labyrinth if you just wanted to say hi?”

  “You can breathe now,” Lupe told her.

  Carolyn bent over and took a deep lungful of air.

  “You’re right. We do need something,” Angus admitted. He turned back to the others and whether or not he could tell them their secret.

  “What is it?” Carolyn interrupted. “I don’t want to be rude, but I’m already growing tired of this, and we’ve got someone expecting us back any time soon. So if you could just…” She clapped her hands twice. “Chop, chop.”

  Paige chuckled. “I like her.”

  Carolyn rolled her eyes. “Oh, well, in that case,” she exclaimed, putting a hand to her chest. “Why don’t we just go along with whatever plan you have in mind. I’m sure it won’t be dangerous.”

  Paige grinned at her sarcasm. “Anyway, we need help in acquiring an artifact—something that was taken from our people long ago.”

  “Oh, here we go,” Lupe groaned. “I thought I’d escaped the artifact hunters in America, and now we’re straight back to Tomb Raider.”

  “Have you played it?” Carolyn asked. “It’s an amazing game.”

  Lupe shrugged. “Played the first one, lost interest.”

  Carolyn recoiled in horror. “What! How? The new ones were fantastic.”

  Paige looked at them both as if they were speaking in Latin. “When you’re both done…”

  Carolyn smirked. “Right, sorry. Tell us about your quest thingy. Magical item, whatever.”

  Angus picked up the explanation. “It’s a saber that has the ability to end the lives of specters with a single cut. Since it is imbued with the power of the exorcism rite, this sword is legendary. It is kept under lock and key at the home of a collector in London. His mansion is impenetrable to mortals, but not for specters.”

  “Then why do you need us to go there for you?” Lupe asked. “If it’s not impenetrable for specters, and you’re all able to morph into whatever the fuck you like, then why don’t you all go down there and just grab it?”

  “Because a curse has been laid on the weapon,” Angus replied. “The sword is able to end the reigns of kings and queens. Therefore, when its power was discovered and made public, a curse was laid on the saber to enforce that no specter should ever lay hands on it again. Even those specters who have a solid grasp of material objects can never touch the blade. It is only to be kept in the hands of the mortals.”

  Lupe sighed. “I see. So, it’s my job to somehow break in and collect it?”

  Angus and Paige smiled and nodded.

  “But even if he acquires it,” Carolyn asked. “What then? How do you break the curse and make sure specters are able to once again touch the blade?”

  “Oh, that’s the easy part,” Paige told her, turning to gesture to one of their followers.

  An old woman with thin strands of gray hair and a black shawl stepped forward and drew a piece of parchment from her sleeve. “This paper contains the words to unravel the curse and release the specter from its mortal prison.”

  “Of course,” Carolyn muttered. “A creepy witch with a spell handed down through the ages. Check.”

  “Hold on,” Lupe argued. “You can’t really expect me to break into someone’s mansion and steal one of their prized possessions, can you? I’m mortal. I can talk to and see specters, but I have no powers of my own.”

  “Good thing we know someone who does,” Carolyn cut in with a grin.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Buckingham Palace, London

  Queen Victoria was sitting at the dressing table in her chambers when Porter Sykes knocked on the door.

  She hadn’t changed since her death. Her cheeks were as round as ever, her frame was large and rotund, and she wore a white lace headdress. Her dress was a black that looked more like smoke in her spectral form. A permanent scowl was fixed on her face.

  “Yes.”

  Porter glided through the door, pausing on the other side and lacing his hands behind his back. “You asked to see me?”

  Victoria swiveled in her seat and crossed her hands over her lap. She waited expectantly.

  Porter growled, then relented. “Your Majesty.”

  Victoria smirked. “That’s better. We presume your presence in our chambers means you have an update on the situation outside?” She managed to look down her nose at Porter despite the height difference. “Although judging by your current demeanor, I should go so far as to downgrade my expectations.”

  Porter cleared his throat and took a step forward. His eye was drawn to Victoria’s bed, where a man with a dark monobrow and thick curls of chest hair lay half-in half-out of the sheets. He waved with one hand.

  “Ignore him,” Victoria told Porter. “Just a midnight snack.”

  Porter shuddered. “You are correct in your assumption. There is yet to be any sign whatsoever of Rogue. Kate and Gordon have contacted us from New York, and they’ve confirmed the worst. Worthington has been exorcised, and Rogue has almost certainly made her way back to England. For all we know, she’s right here in the city.”

  Queen Victoria nodded serenely. She glided elegantly over to a cabinet against the wall and opened the doors to reveal shelves lined with various perfumes and vials of liquids.

  “Do you know what this is, Porter?” she asked with a venomous smile.

  Porter scowled. “I do not. I’m sorry.”

  “A cunning little concoction, to say the least,” Victoria told him. “Something Rogue retrieved on one of her outings that has proven invaluable to my self-protection. It is useful for inflicting immense pain on anyone who dares to fail my orders.”

  Porter’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed.

  “Let me make you a little deal, oh faithful one,” she murmured as she turned and shook the little vial before Porter. “Genevieve is certainly in London, currently seeking a way to worm her way into my quarters. I know she is, I can sense it. With all the America business, why wouldn’t she be trying to add my head to her collection of those already rolling on the floor?”

  Porter searched for the words to calm his queen before it was too late. “Your Majesty, Worthington…”

  “Shut up! You’ll speak when spoken to,” Victoria hissed, her face turning red. “Do you think I care about any single specter? You should have told me when I placed Worthington on this mission that he would be a liability. That he would expose our ambitions and reveal what has taken decades to put into place. We had only just begun to train our eyes on our cross-Atlantic cousins, and already the whole thing has gone to shit.”

  Porter clenched his fists, wanting to shout back at Victoria, but knowing how unseemly that would be when there was company
present in the room.

  If we were alone right now, I’d…

  Victoria paused and took a moment to take a breath. When she spoke, her voice was dark and measured. “No matter. What’s done can’t be undone. Perhaps let’s look at this failure as a chance to further our own cause and remove the thorn which has been pressing in my side for years.”

  The man on the bed rolled over, his fat spilling onto the silk sheets like melted wax from a candle. He laughed excitedly. “You mean, remove her from the equation? Ha! I’ve never liked that bitch.”

  “Exactly,” Victoria replied, looking at the man with longing eyes.

  Porter grew queazy.

  Victoria turned her attention back to Porter. “If we can find a way to destroy the invincible Rogue, then we at least stand a chance of regaining equilibrium across the court. That semi-immortal bitch has lasted a hundred years beyond her expiration date despite every attempt I’ve made to have her die heroically somewhere far-off, but she must have a weakness. There must be a way to take her down.”

  “You tell me what it is, and I’ll deliver it,” Porter told her. “I mean, she did me a favor removing Worthington from your affections, but I’ve never truly liked her. She’s always been suspicious of our…” He paused and tried to look for the right word. “Situation.”

  “Oh, my dear Porter,” Victoria murmured, cocking her head to the side. “You forget. You always have my affection.”

  She crossed the room with a desperate fury and took Porter’s face in her hands. She pulled him toward her, and they kissed passionately for a few moments, their arms reaching around each other’s backs as they pulled each other closer.

  “Hey!” the man on the bed exclaimed. “What about me?”

  Porter pulled back and glared at the man.

  Victoria ran a thumb across her lip and stared into Porter’s eyes. She held his head once more, her grip surprisingly strong. “Now, promise me something, Porter.”

  “Anything,” he swore.

  Victoria raised her eyebrows.

  He rolled his eyes. “Your Majesty.”

  “Find her even if you have to go out there and hunt her down yourself. She is out there somewhere, I can feel it. Get reports from every intermediary and hunt for unusual activity. I want hourly checks on the palace until she’s captured.”