Act of Surveillance: Paranormal Security and Intelligence® an Immortal Ops® World Novel (PSI-Ops/Immortal Ops Book 7)

by Mandy M. Roth

  Gram went right for Rurik’s desk from the other side. Within seconds, he was lying on the floor where Boomer and Duke had been only minutes prior, rubbing his chest as well.

  “She’s consistent,” said Boomer. “I’ll give her that.”

  Duke stared down at Gram. “What was that you were saying about her not possibly being able to do much harm?”

  Rurik stayed where he was and noticed the little girl peeking out from under the tablecloth once more at him before trying again to reach the stuffed bear.

  “You want that?” he asked.

  Her hand froze, but she didn’t pull it under the desk again.

  “I can get it for you,” he said, doing his best to speak in a lighter tone to avoid making her cry, as he’d done to the other children.

  Gram stood. “Rurik, maybe yer nae the best person for the job. Yer nae exactly warm and fuzzy.”

  Boomer tipped his head. “Well, he is what she’s reaching for—if you catch my drift. Shocked she wants anything to do with a bear, stuffed or not, if what Blaise heard was true—that a bear-shifter is who harmed her.”

  Duke lifted a hand, stopping Gram from protesting more. “So far, he’s the only one she’s not knocked on his backside with magik. I say we wait until after she hands Boris there his backside before we intervene.”

  Gram rolled his eyes.

  The little girl’s hand remained out, and she turned it, lifting a finger and pointing directly at Rurik. She then hooked her finger, making a come-hither motion.

  Duke snorted. “Do it. Get closer. I want to see her tear down the Iron Curtain.”

  Rurik stood with slow, deliberate movements, hoping to avoid scaring the child more. The closer he got to her, the more the smell of cinnamon filled the space. The temperature actually seemed to increase, and he hoped that was a good sign. He walked to his desk, expecting to be hit with Fae power. When none came, he crouched and paid close attention to her hand. So far, it was still out.

  She went from beckoning him closer to pointing to the bear.

  He chuckled slightly. “You want it, yes?”

  She gave him a thumbs-up, and the ice that seemed to enclose his heart at all times began to thaw.

  He nudged the bear, easing it closer to her.

  She snatched hold of it and pulled it under the desk.

  Rurik’s hand remained where the bear had been.

  Her hand darted out once more and he thought it was to toss power at him. Instead, she inched her hand closer to his before lifting her forefinger and touching his pinkie. If there had been any ice remaining around his heart, it was gone with that one action.

  He stayed perfectly still, allowing her to hold his finger.

  Boomer leaned slightly to get a better view of what was happening. He did a double take and stood up straight once more.

  “What is it?” asked Gram.

  “I’m not sure but I think the kid actually likes him,” said Boomer, surprise evident in his voice.

  Duke’s expression changed to one of shock. “We are talking about Russia, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m as confused as you,” said Boomer.

  Rurik shot them all hard looks.

  The little girl picked then to tug gently on his finger.

  The telltale sounds of hunger filled the area as her tiny stomach growled.

  Rurik glanced at Duke. “The pie, is it safe?”

  Duke inclined his head. “Yes.”

  The little girl released Rurik’s finger and pulled her hand back under the desk.

  “It better be safe,” Rurik warned, reaching up and pulling the pie from the desktop.

  “It is,” said Duke. “What do you take me for? Wait, don’t answer that. There are little ears present. But yeah, the pie is safe. Corbin refused to let me poison you.”

  Rurik held the pie in one hand and boldly reached for the tablecloth. He lifted it slowly, waiting to be hit with Fae magik.

  None came.

  He found himself staring in at a tiny slip of a girl. Her long, light brown hair was tangled in spots, but that wasn’t the first thing he noticed. The first was the evidence that she had indeed been mauled by a bear-shifter. The wounds were on her left cheek and the side of her neck. It was as Blaise had described and needed medical attention.

  The sight of it set off Rurik’s bear side, making rage consume him. During the loss of control, he caught a faint hint of another bear-shifter. It was fleeting but it only served to drive him further into the darkened abyss. For a quick moment, the smell of someone he’d not thought of in years reached him. The man had once been someone he considered a friend, only to turn his back on everything and everyone to join forces with the enemy.

  Pavel Orlov was a bear-shifter and Russian, like Rurik. Unlike Rurik, Pavel shifted into a polar bear, making him exceptionally temperamental and dangerous.

  Why in the hell was he smelling traces of Pavel in the area?

  Blaise’s words echoed in Rurik’s head as he stared at the little girl’s face.

  She had very clearly been mauled by a bear.

  Could Pavel had been the culprit?

  Their last time meeting face-to-face had narrowly left Rurik the victor. Pavel had no doubt walked away with permanent scars—a forever reminder that he’d been bested. Had the twisted bastard turned his rage on the little girl? Had he left the child forever scarred?

  A massive growl came from Rurik, booming throughout the bullpen, causing items on his desk to shake. “I will hunt and kill every one of them who did this!”

  His fellow operatives rushed at him, presumably to get him far from the child for her safety. As much as his bear wanted to lash out at them all for daring to interfere, it too was worried for the child’s well-being.

  Fae magik burst free from under his desk, and he assumed it would be directed at him. He was wrong.

  Boomer, Duke, and Gram were all knocked farther back.

  Rurik was left untouched, still crouched with the pie in his hand, as he barely clung to his shifter side.

  The next he knew, the child was scrambling out from under the desk with the Statue of Liberty figurine under one of her arms. She came right at Rurik, pressing herself against him, wrapping her free arm around his neck, trembling as she did. He lifted her while he held the pie with his other hand.

  Taking a breath in, Rurik caught faint notes of nutmeg and vanilla in addition to cinnamon under the smell of the toxic compound the child had been given.

  Turning slightly, he found the others there, staring openmouthed at him.

  They then stared at each other.

  “Och, do my eyes deceive me, or did the wee one pick Rurik over us to trust?” asked Gram, sounding stunned.

  “The kid has crap judgment,” added Duke as he tensed at the sight of her. “Boris, I’ll help you hunt the bastard who did that to her face.”

  “She’s so tiny,” said Boomer, fixated on her face. “How could anyone do that to her?”

  She stiffened and tried to hide the injured side of her face from their view.

  Rurik locked gazes with her. “No. You have nothing to be ashamed of, but it needs to be seen to. Will you let someone tend to it?”

  She tightened her hold on his neck, causing the figurine to wedge between them firmly, digging into his chest.

  Rurik took a calming breath, sensing her fear. “I will remain with you. I promise they won’t hurt you.”

  She eased her hold on him slightly and nodded.

  “Then it’s settled,” he said to the others. “I’ll carry her and stay with her while her face is seen to. Gram, get the bear from under my desk. Bring it with us. She likes it.”

  “Aye,” said Gram, hurrying over.

  The little girl clung tighter to Rurik.

  Gram snorted. “Do nae throw more magik at me, wee one. I willnae try to take you from him. I’ve learned my lesson. But you should know that he’s basically a big teddy bear with you. Never did I think I’d see that.”

&nb
sp; She settled against Rurik’s chest and calmed slightly before reaching for the pie and shoving her finger into it. She withdrew and put her finger in her mouth. She winced, and he could almost feel her pain as if it were his own. The act hurt her cheek.

  Rurik’s eyes moistened as he held her to him. Never had he wanted to protect anyone as much as he felt the need to do so with her. He wanted to take her pain and shoulder it for her, while finding some way to make sure she knew she was safe. And that he’d kill any who dared think to harm her again.

  No words came, but he did hold her just a bit tighter.

  She clung to the Statue of Liberty.

  He offered a warm smile. “Do you like that?”

  Her little head moved up and down as she nodded.

  “Then it’s yours,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice soft.

  She tried to smile but whimpered as the cuts on her cheek and neck pulled.

  In that moment, Rurik vowed he’d scour the earth to find the bastard who had hurt her and make the man pay.

  “Boris, we need to get her back to the infirmary,” said Duke.

  Blaise entered the bullpen and the second he saw the child in Rurik’s arms, relief showed on his face. “Good, you found her. Where was she?”

  Gram pointed in the direction of Rurik’s desk. “The wee one was hiding under his desk.”

  Duke grunted. “She has crap taste in operatives.”

  The little girl glanced in Duke’s direction, narrowing her gaze on him. It was then Rurik felt a buzz of power in the air. It was slight, yet something told him, if unleashed, it would be powerful. He knew she was the source. He’d already seen her toss grown men with ease.

  “I fight the urge to go at him every time I’m near him,” Rurik said. “It’s honestly an exercise in restraint. But let’s not use any magik right now. Do you understand?”

  Again, she nodded, but she didn’t take her eyes from Duke.

  Duke lifted his hands, signaling surrender. “I take it back. You have great taste in operatives. Yay Russia. Communism rules. Don’t throw any more power at me, okay, kid? Twice was enough.”

  Gram laughed. “The lass has a guid deal of Fae in her.”

  Boomer tipped his head. “Someone explain to me how it is she can use magik, but she’s not able to heal? Shouldn’t that serum be messing with her magik too?”

  “Who is to say it isn’t?” asked Duke. “What if it is dulling her magik and she can still do what she did?”

  Boomer’s eyes widened. “That would mean she’s damn powerful.”

  “Not sure something that powerful should be left unchecked,” said Duke.

  Rurik growled. “If anyone thinks of harming her or trying to lock her away, they will have me to deal with.”

  Blaise approached slowly. He lifted his arms in the direction of the little girl, as if to take her from Rurik.

  She shook her head and then put her uninjured cheek to Rurik’s shoulder. She nestled against his chest, holding the Statue of Liberty close to her, and relaxed somewhat.

  With a sigh, Rurik looked at Blaise. “I can hold her while you tend to her face. If that will be easier.”

  Blaise stared between them and gave a slight nod. “That works for me. You can help keep her still. I was worried I’d need to strap her to a backboard in order to handle her wounds properly without her moving around. And restraining her is the last thing I wanted to do.”

  Rurik handed the pie off to Blaise. “What do you say we get her face addressed and then get her some pie? I think she’s hungry.”

  “For a guy who says he’s not good with kids, you seem to be doing all right,” said Blaise, holding the pie and fighting a smile.

  Duke laughed. “Good God, can you imagine Boris as a nanny?”

  “Stop calling me Boris,” snarled Rurik. “It’s not my name.”

  The little girl lifted her head and the figurine. She cocked her head to one side, ran a finger over the nickel plate on the base of the statue, and whispered to him, her lips barely moving as she did. “Jackass?”

  Duke snorted. “Better judge of character than I thought.”

  Rurik found himself laughing softly. “You are small, yet you can read?”

  She nodded and looked him over carefully. “Jackass?” she repeated, making the others laugh.

  “That is not a word you should say,” he returned, still amused by her.

  The other men chuckled softly as well, looking to be torn between tears at the sight of her injuries and the fact she’d just basically asked Rurik if his name was Jackass, not once but twice.

  “Ready to let Blaise handle your cheek and then have some more of the pie?” asked Rurik.

  She made a small grunting noise that sounded a lot like “uh-huh.” She then reached up, smashing the statue between them more, and began toying with his hair. It took him a second to realize that she was trying to braid it.

  Apparently, Siberia had managed to get even colder.

  He bit back a groan and was about to tell her to stop when he saw joy in her wide brown eyes. Instead, he found himself nodding, and calling her a pet name, of all things, that was Russian.

  Her brow furrowed.

  He winked. “Little Paw,” he said, translating it for her.

  She blinked up at him, still braiding his hair. Her eyes lit more, and he could tell the nickname made her happy.

  “I’ve got you, Little Paw,” said Rurik. “You are safe now.”

  Chapter Four

  Present day, Durham, North Carolina…

  Liberty Mansfield shot up in bed, grabbing her cheek as the words “little paw” echoed in her head, in a voice that was male and distinctly Eastern European.

  The sound of the fan oscillating back and forth near the open second-floor window filled the air. It caused the sheer curtains to lift slightly.

  The home was old and while it had been upgraded at some point with central air, the system didn’t do much to keep the house cool, but it did run up the electric bill. Since Liberty lived on a college-student budget, outrageous utility bills weren’t a luxury she could afford.

  Her bedroom was dimly lit, but it was enough for her to see things were not as they should be. Namely, more than one item was floating, suspended in midair.

  A lump formed in her throat as she watched a framed photo of her and her best friends glide by. Liberty was pictured in the center with a dark-haired girl to her left and a petite blonde to her right. They had their arms around one another and were smiling, each wearing a cap and gown from their high school graduation ceremony.

  It was a day that should have been as perfect as the picture made it out to be.

  What the photo didn’t show was the fact that earlier in the day, Liberty had lost control of whatever it was she was cursed with. She’d basically flattened a trailer home by lifting it high into the air and then whipping it at a massive tree, all with nothing more than a thought. Thankfully, the trailer had been an old abandoned one, and no one had been injured.

  The photo also left out the fact that Isobel, the woman with the dark hair, had a similar curse as Liberty. One that left her being the cause of a fire that spontaneously broke out in the gymnasium of their high school a week prior, forcing the graduation ceremony to be held in a junior high gym.

  Those were hardly the only spots on their records when it came to losing control of what they could do. They were just two of the more notable ones.

  Having a number of items floating around her room didn’t seem quite so bad in comparison. Not that it was great or anything, especially since Liberty had made it happen while she’d been asleep and dreaming.

  Her memories of life before the age of five were fragmented at best. Frequently, they came in the form of nightmares, like the one she’d only just woken from. Sometimes, a scent or a noise would bring on a memory.

  Rarely, if ever, were the memories good.

  For most of the nightmare she’d been having, it was the same repeated flashe
s of children in cages, of men in white coats running countless and many times painful tests, and then there was the mother of all horrible memories.

  Taking a moment, Liberty collected herself and tried to focus on returning the floating items to their original locations. That was a task easier said than done.

  Reaching out, she touched the figurine that was normally on her bedside table. She wrapped a hand around the plastic object and plucked it from the air, drawing it close to her chest.

  It was the Statue of Liberty, and while it had seen better days, it was special to her. It, along with a small stuffed brown bear, had made the journey with her through her childhood, even though she had very limited memories of how it was she’d come into possession of them.

  She associated both items with the man who had helped her but couldn’t recall if he’d given them to her or not. The statue was hardly child-friendly, yet it had been with her as far back as she could remember.

  Two of the crown’s spikes on the statue were broken off. The corner of it was burned from a fire that had broken out in one of the homes she’d been in for special children. The very home where she’d met Daisy and Isobel.

  There was charring on the base and on the nickel plate, leaving the engraving reading “come to America, Jackass” in place of the “Welcome” that had been there prior to the fire.

  The statue was something others had tried to take from her, pointing out it wasn’t for kids, especially with the inscription, but she’d clung to it desperately, refusing to cooperate or settle down until she was given permission to keep it.

  As her fingers ran over the statue’s smooth edges, calmness eased through her. She thought more about her dream, hoping she could remember another clue. Anything that might help her connect the dots and learn the truth of who she was and how she’d come by the curse she carried.

  And find the man with blue eyes.

  She didn’t voice the desire, but it was always there, just below the surface. Try as she might, she’d never been able to find anything in the way of real records from before the age of five, and even the ones she could get were mostly redacted.

  The first group home she’d been placed in (that she could remember) had experts on staff who would tell her time and time again that her nightmares were merely manifestations of trauma she’d suffered as a small child. That they were not true events that she’d lived through. For a while, she’d bought into their propaganda. She’d believed them. Right up until she woke from a nightmare to find everything in the room flying about as if on strings.