"Be honest. You don't have to make something up to spare my feelings."
"I uh, had a talk with Pete and Jerry."
"And?"
"They gave me the inside scoop on Black Myth—that's easier to say than the other name you have for them, by the way. There weren't many deaths from the plague in the Seattle area."
"I know. All the prisons they emptied were in the Southern U.S., and they really didn't have time to migrate that far before they started dying."
"Yeah. Pete said that."
"What else did Pete say?"
"That nobody was safe—no human was safe—anywhere. They told me I was better off here—behind the walls of protection they were forming around the Chancellor than I'd be anywhere unless I wanted to travel to the Arctic."
"You want to travel to the Arctic?"
"Not really."
"Want to call the hubs and see if he's available for an interview?"
"I would love to."
"Set it up for your favorite restaurant in Seattle tomorrow, if he's interested. I'll get Yosuke to give us a lift. I figure you'll need to reserve two tables; I doubt Rob and the others will allow me to go unsupervised."
"I think somebody needs to explain about sprites," he sighed.
"First of all, they're immortal unless somebody manages to murder them," I said. "Rob's never told me his age, but it could be in the thousands."
"You're kidding?" Jon's eyes widened in surprise.
"Hey. Remember those times before—when you didn't know about any of this?"
"Yeah."
"All of us existed before you were told, and it didn't impact your life one bit. Did it?"
"I guess not."
"Your life hasn't changed because of us, Jon. All lives have changed because of Shakkor Agdah—Black Myth. The last time they caused trouble, the sprites and wizards thought they'd wiped them out. They'd just gone underground so they could build up their numbers and come back stronger, with more technology at their disposal. Pete is right—the safest place to be is near the Chancellor."
"Jerry actually said that the safest place to be is near the Chancellor's wife."
"Did he, now?"
"He did, and Pete nodded after he said it."
"Well, that's different, I guess."
"I have a question," Jon said.
"What's that?"
"I know Parke talked to Faith about working as his assistant if I went back to Seattle. He said that he'd originally hired her to help you, but she had training as a legal assistant, and that's what he needed. Here's my question—can Faith go ahead and work for Parke?"
"I suppose so. Why?"
"Because I want to work for you."
"If Jon wants to switch, that's fine with me. However," Parke leaned against the front of his desk, his legs and arms crossed as he considered the other item on my agenda.
"However what?"
"I will be going to Seattle with you for the interview."
Jon had called Richard while we were still on the back patio. Richard had gotten news hours earlier that he was being replaced by an administrator hired by the new company. He'd get a severance package which included insurance for six months, but officially, he was unemployed.
I hoped the interview went well; we needed somebody to run the compound so we wouldn't have to worry about groceries, burned-out lightbulbs or dirty bathtubs. If we needed another housekeeper or two, then he could handle that as well. Trey would make sure they didn't talk outside work.
"I don't mind if you go," I told Parke. "I hope the food's good. We haven't eaten out in a while." I waggled a finger between the two of us.
"What I want to avoid," he began, "is another incident like Birmingham, in which I learn about it after the fact."
"Do other Princes and Princesses have autonomy, or do you demand they report their every move to you, too?"
"While that is a fair point in most cases," he uncrossed his legs and stood straight, giving me a hard look, "We are married, or have you forgotten?"
"I haven't forgotten, although at times I think you have."
"Cassie, married couples communicate, or so I've heard. Especially if one or the other is going into a potentially dangerous situation."
"Generally that's true, although I didn't have the best role model in my father, you know."
"Which brings me to my main question—why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't want to have an argument about it. I knew I had to go; Yosuke and Will felt the same. Rob and the sprites went to guard me; what could you have done that they didn't?"
"I would have known, dammit, rather than getting blindsided by it later, and showing everybody that you don't trust me."
"Parke, the person I don't trust the most in this house is Will. He knew and he went. Trust has nothing to do with this. Most of the time, I feel like I need your permission to sneeze. I hate that. You make decisions every day that I don't know about. If you told me right now you were going to Birmingham anyway, would I argue with you about it?"
"Probably not." He walked around his desk and flopped onto the chair before looking at me again.
"The only point we might differ on is whether I went with you as added protection," I said. "I was going with you anyway—before the bad feeling started. Things have changed since I died, Parke. Some of those things are expected. Others certainly aren't. I still don't know how I got to Douglasville to destroy Shakkor Agdah, but it's a damn good thing I did."
Parke lowered his eyes to stare at his hands, which were clasped together atop his desk. "I can't explain it, either," he sighed. "Look, I promise to try—because it's in my DNA to argue cases, you know—but I'll do my best to understand that these feelings you're getting should be heeded."
"That's all I'm asking for, Parke—for you to listen rather than argue."
"Are you hungry?"
"Yeah. I sent Jon to eat before I came looking for you. There may not be anything left by now."
"Come on, let's see if they saved anything for us while we meet with the vamps and get them up to speed."
The sun had set while Parke and I talked; he was right—Trey needed information on Birmingham.
Dinner was pot roast; Kate and Beverly made sure there was enough left for Parke and me while we discussed Birmingham with Trey, Grim, Wallis and Jackson. Cliff and Kent were patrolling the grounds outside until the vamps could take over.
"How the hell did they get in there to set a spell in the first place?" Trey asked. His government-issued phone lay on the kitchen island in front of him—he toyed with it while Parke and I explained what we knew.
I figured he was wondering what to tell his superiors regarding the truck stop explosion.
Rob? I think we need your help—and maybe Yosuke's too. Trey needs to know how Shakkor Agdah got close enough to set a spell without anybody knowing.
Rob and Yosuke joined us moments later. "They got in underground—I asked Averill to double check and it's true," Rob reported.
"Their power to remain hidden is legendary, and has been enhanced recently, no doubt, by the destruction of a second pyramid," Yosuke took up the explanation.
"Pyramid? What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Parke frowned at the wizard.
"There were four, hidden around the globe to hold Shakkor Agdah's power at bay. All along, they have searched for them. The enemy has found and destroyed two. Only two remain to do the work of all four. As you may imagine, Shakkor Agdah is now testing the limits of those two, in addition to searching for them diligently. If they are destroyed, this world is lost."
"Like Cassie's pyramid?" Parke's frown deepened. I froze. If they asked me to bring it out, they'd see it had magically healed itself and for some reason, I didn't want it known.
"It is safe enough with her," Will strode into the room.
"Is it safe?" Parke turned an accusing frown on me.
"It's as safe as I can make it," I replied, struggling to keep my voice fro
m trembling.
"We sprites will guard her and the pyramid," Rob said, standing and bowing to Parke.
"Good. You're going to Seattle with us tomorrow, then, so Cassie can interview a prospective employee. We're having dinner at La Cocina del Gato."
"Please say that's a Mexican restaurant," Rob perked up.
"It is, with great food," I told him.
"We would have gone to protect you anyway; tamales will make it a joyful task."
"You know, I'm full now, but I'd still eat a tamale," I teased Rob. I blinked after I said those words—I was slipping back into my old ways with him, and I swore I wouldn't do that.
"Either Yosuke or I will take you there," Will said. "And act as additional protection."
"I think we should check your house while we're in the neighborhood," I turned to Parke.
It took him a moment to understand why. "You think they've laid other spells, don't you?"
"Anywhere the two of us may show up together. Make sure your insurance policy is up to date."
"Fucking hell. I'll call the staff and ask them to leave now." Parke rose and stomped out of the kitchen.
"Wise move," Will sighed. "Perhaps it's a good thing he didn't send his mother and your sister back."
Southeastern Oklahoma
Dalton King
"When is the last time anybody came here?" Morton's temper was short as another tree limb slapped the windshield. The road was nothing more than two parallel ruts with grass and weeds growing in the middle. Night had fallen, making it harder to follow the makeshift road, and overgrown trees weren't helping.
"They only use it during deer hunting season, and that's in November," Franks answered.
"Is it air conditioned?" I asked.
"I think it has window units—no idea when they were used last." Gorham's temper was fraying, too. We were cool enough in the truck, but outside—even at night—it was hot and muggy. Mosquitoes would be a problem for humans, I figured, but ice demons could freeze the little bastards to death on our skin.
I was looking forward to killing something, and anything that got close enough would die. My fingers itched to get to my laptop, too, so I could scope out the nearby casino. With Gorham's truck and a duffel of cash, Morton and I could head back to Mexico and parts south of the border.
Especially if we left bodies behind instead of live conspirators. The only thing standing in our way was Vaalenn—if she decided to call us back. Too many times I cursed the sigil Ruudann tattooed on our shoulders—Franks and Gorham wore them, too. Black Myth could find us anywhere and force us to do their bidding.
Money and promises—that's what we were given. Only recently had I begun to question that choice. Ross Diablo was supposed to win the war against the Chancellor, and then, with all demons working with Black Myth, the world would be ours.
Ross and his cronies failed because my own fucking granddaughter decided to get in the way. At least the bitch was dead, just like her mother and that miserable water demon she called her aunt.
"Here it is," Franks announced as Morton pulled the truck to a lurching stop.
I blinked at the cabin, which was larger than I imagined. If the electricity was working, I could charge my phone and get my research done.
Half an hour later, we were inside the cabin with everything from the truck unloaded. Gorham and Franks took the two bedrooms with only one bed inside; Morton and I got the third room, lined on two sides with bunk beds.
I took the lower bunk on one side; he got the other. "We should have stopped for groceries somewhere," Morton grumbled as he sorted through his duffel. "There's nothing to eat or drink in this house except water." He found what he was looking for; his cell phone. He sat on his bunk to read through it—most likely to check Demonnet regarding Ralph Greenville's demise and the incident in Douglasville.
"We'll get groceries in the morning," I told him. "Around here, they roll up the sidewalks at eight or nine, and you'll be lucky to find a gas station or convenience store open after that." I pulled out my cell phone before digging around in my own bag for the cord to charge it.
Morton's drawn-in breath told me he'd found something important. "What is it?" I growled at him.
"Greenville's replacement is set to arrive tomorrow. It's a princess—a rock demon from the Mountain Clan in Canada. That's not all," he turned the phone toward me.
"I can't read that tiny screen from here," I said.
"The Chancellor announced his new fire demon," Morton hissed at me. "Somebody his father had hidden away for years."
"He's only now bringing this guy out?" I was on my feet and snatching the phone from Morton's hand.
"Didn't need to—he married your daughter, remember? Now that she's dead, he pulls out the big guns. We saw just how big he was, too, remember?"
"I remember. Damn, Verity Beaufort—a distant grandson of Honoré Beaufort. We need to get out of here, before Vaalenn puts us on his trail."
"She won't know about this unless we tell her," Morton pointed out.
"Or if Franks or Gorham told her already," I hissed, shoving the phone back at Morton. "Come on, we have work to do."
Morton blinked at me for a moment before realizing what I meant—Gorham and Franks would only stand in our way. He was halfway to his feet when Franks burst through the door, informing us that Vaalenn was calling for our services, and that we'd be leaving here in two hours.
"Unnnh," Morton gripped his left shoulder just as mine began to burn.
Damn. Damn it all to hell and back.
Chapter 11
Cassie
Breakfast was over; the morning was fine and hot on the gulf coast and Faith was on her first official day as Parke's assistant. Jon was taking her through the steps on what he did for Parke and the list of things needing to be done.
"Cassie?" Rob drew me away from the window, where I found myself staring at the lagoon behind the house.
"Sorry, I was miles away," I told him.
"I only had to call once," he grinned.
"Good. Great. What's up?"
"Well, we figure that Shakkor Agdah has the information Parke released yesterday, if they didn't have it before. That means they'll be searching even harder for us and the fictional Verity Beaufort. We have to be prepared for more attacks by them. According to the news, the truck drivers infected by the woman we're hunting are beginning to die. It's only a matter of time, now."
"Do you think it would do any good to talk to them—the ones still alive?"
"We'd have to sneak in; they're guarded better than the President."
"You think Yosuke can get us there? I know he and Will can hide us once we're in."
"Trey's people have already questioned them. Do you think we can learn anything they haven't?"
"I don't know, but isn't it worth a try? If something slipped past the others, maybe we'll understand better. Do we know which one was the last infected?"
"I think we can get that information," Rob appeared thoughtful. "By the way, your disguise is now in place; anybody who doesn't know you or isn't someone you trust will see rock demon Princess Beatrice Chaumont, from the Canadian Mountain Clan. Beatrice was real—she died when she was ten in a skiing accident before she learned how to transform properly. As you may imagine, her parents were devastated, and were brave enough to offer their daughter's name for your disguise."
"Remind me to send them a gift for their generosity," I sighed.
"Try not to die again—I think they would appreciate that. Now. Shall I call for the wizards and the other sprites, Princess?"
"Please. We'll be sure to inform his lordship before we go, too, but he's not stopping us."
"As is proper, my lady." Rob bowed elaborately and left my office. I sighed and allowed my shoulders to sag. I expected Parke to attempt to argue anyway. Something—a feeling, perhaps, told me that more information could be had before it was too late and the last victim died.
"Will and I have discussed this, but were
waiting to ask your permission," Yosuke said after Rob and I told him what I wanted to do.
The other sprites nodded their agreement; Rob had already communicated with them, I think, as they were dressed in their armor and ready to go.
"You have to be back for the interview and dinner tonight," Parke stalked in. Cliff followed him, but he wasn't radiating displeasure like Parke was.
"Do you want to come?" I asked as calmly as I could.
"I have work to do," he complained, as if what I intended to do wasn't considered real work. "Besides, I've read the reports Trey got—I doubt there's anything else to be learned, here."
There it was—his opinion and resulting disgust for the decision to ask more questions. "I'll try to make it a short trip," I said. "Besides, the poor man we're going to see will die soon anyway, so we can't stay longer than that."
Parke deflated; he knew just as I did that the man had less than a day left, at most. While Black Myth considered human lives worthless, those of us in my office did not. We'd lost human friends, demons, vampires and shifters to Shakkor Agdah, and we all considered their lives worth avenging.
"Let me know when you get back," Parke demanded, before turning and striding out of the room.
"I'll go with you," Cliff offered.
"Thank you," I told him. "I appreciate that."
Saint Agnes Medical Center
Charleston, South Carolina
Cliff
We had to wait ten minutes until the doctor and two nurses left the isolated room where Michael Southern lay dying.
"We'll have to hurry," Yosuke whispered to me. I was the only one present who didn't hear the telepathic messages between the others, but I'd catch the softest whisper the wizard could utter. I nodded, letting him know I understood.
He transported us inside the isolated room, where the patient lay, his eyes fixed on the ceiling while an IV dripped in his hand and other monitors constantly measured his heart rate, blood pressure and anything else known to the medical community.
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