by D. J. Dalton
“Captain Wilson.” He put a finger to his other ear. “Yes, Tabitha and I worked out the strike details. I called my entire squad to action. No, Jordon’s staying behind to…” He turned, walking outside to continue the conversation.
Quinlin leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach. A grin spread across his face as he formulated a plan.
The next day, everyone got up early to see Briggs and Keren off. Ordell and Nadria wore crestfallen faces.
“Why can’t we go?” Ordell whined.
“I told you, it’s dangerous. You’ll be safe here with Officer Jordon.” Briggs adjusted a strap on his shoulder as he clapped a hand on the officer’s shoulder. “Do what he tells you. He has full authority.”
Ordell looked down. “Fine.”
That woman hugged Keren. “Be careful.”
“I will.” Keren kissed her on the cheek. Then Nadria stepped up, giving her a hug.
“I wish I could go with you.”
“Me too.”
When Keren finished her display of affection for the dirty shifter, she turned to Quinlin, giving him a flirtatious look as she approached.
“Take care of everyone for me?” She put her hand on his cheek.
“Anything for you.” Quinlin took her hand in his, kissing it before letting her go.
A low growl came from Briggs. “Let’s head out.”
Keren nodded, picking up her backpack. She paused at the door, giving everyone a final farewell wave.
“Well, this really blows.” Ordell plopped himself on the couch.
“Come on. I’m not that bad.” Officer Jordon sat in the chair.
“It’s not you.” Ordell crossed his arms. “We should go too. We’ve been in this since the beginning.” A darkness fell over his face. “I have to avenge my brother.”
“Whoa.” Officer Jordon held up his hands. “No avenging. Let the inquisitors handle the Dark Guild. Believe me, they won’t know what hit them.”
Quinlin clenched his teeth. He had to act now while he still had time to warn the arcanum.
Officer Jordon pulled out his cell phone. “Let me see what movies are available for streaming. That should pass the time.”
Quinlin motioned for that woman and the female shifter to follow him into the kitchen. He wasted no time getting to the point. “Look, I want to help Keren and so do you.” He looked at Nadria. “Do you have anything that would put Officer Jordon to sleep?”
She frowned. “You want to drug him?”
“Yes,” that woman said, “I have to find Marcus’s Book of Shadows. If I know what curse the arcanum used, I can reverse it.”
“I don’t know.” Nadria frowned. “It doesn’t feel right.”
That woman grabbed her hand. “Please. Think of the lives we’d save if I stopped the cursed creatures.” Her eyes looked desperate.
Quinlin raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t expected that woman to be on his side.
Nadria let out a sigh. “Alright, I have some herbs in my bag. Let me get them.” She started down the hall, then turned. “Just for the record, this is against my better judgment.” She walked down the hall to her bedroom.
They heard Officer Jordon shout from the living room. “Hey, what movies do you guys like? There’s a comedy and an action-adventure that look pretty good.”
“Either of those two is fine,” Quinlin shouted back.
That woman tipped her head, staring at him. “You look so familiar. Were you a student at UCF?”
His head throbbed. The last thing he needed was for that woman to get her memories back and recognize him as her attacker. “I was, but I graduated last year. You might remember me from when I worked in the administration office during my last semester.” He scanned the hall. What was taking her so long?
“Maybe.” She frowned, squinting her eyes. Finally, the shifter came back, holding a vial in her hand.
“This should make him drowsy.”
“Office Jordon,” said that woman in a raised voice, “would you like something to drink?”
“Yeah, a soda if you have one.”
She pulled a two-liter bottle out of the refrigerator. Her hand shook as she poured the soda into a glass. The shifter sprinkled the herbs into the drink, then stirred it with a spoon.
Quinlin grabbed the glass. “You wait here. I’ll send Ordell in so you can fill him in on what we’re doing.” He walked out before they could object.
“Hey, Ordell, Nadria needs your help in the kitchen.”
Ordell frowned, giving Quinlin a confused gaze. Quinlin pursed his lips, motioning with his head toward the kitchen.
“OK.” Ordell headed to the kitchen, the look of confusion remaining on his face.
Once Ordell had left, Quinlin set the drink next to Officer Jordon.
“Here you go.” He moved around to stand behind the chair.
“Thanks.” Officer Jordon set his phone down, then picked up the drink, taking a small sip. After setting it back down, he reached for the television remote.
Since Quinlin didn’t have time to wait for the drugs to take effect, he sped things up with a jolt of energy. He placed his hand on Officer Jordon’s back.
“Parioida fulmenten,” he whispered.
As Officer Jordon’s muscles convulsed from the energy shock, Quinlin pulled him back into the chair. When his muscles stopped twitching, Quinlin wiped the drool from his face and positioned his head, leaning it off to the side. He picked up the glass, tossing its contents into a nearby planter before returning it to the table. The shifter would believe her drugs put him to sleep.
After snatching up the officer’s cell phone, Quinlin paged through the messages, looking for details on the strike.
“They scheduled the strike for 6 am,” he muttered to himself. Tension released from his body. He had time to get to the wax museum. After stuffing the phone in his pocket, he rifled through Officer Jordon’s pockets, pulling out his car keys.
“Come in here,” Quinlin shouted. “The drugs worked. He’s sleeping like a baby.”
The three rushed into the living room. After seeing Officer Jordon’s slumped body, Nadria ran to him, putting a hand on his forehead.
“It shouldn’t have worked so quickly.” She checked his pulse, then frowned. “His pulse doesn’t feel right. We have to get help.”
With a smirk, Quinlin enjoyed watching the terror on the shifter’s face, thinking she hurt the officer.
“Does he have a phone?” Ordell patted the officer’s pockets.
“I found his car keys,” Quinlin opened the front door, “but not a phone. Get him to a bedroom. I’ll go outside to see if anyone else is around.”
“Shouldn’t we drive him to a hospital?” the shifter objected.
“Nadria,” that woman took the shifter by the arms, “the sooner we get the book, the sooner we can get help for Officer Jordon.”
The shifter pursed her lips but didn’t object. He saw them struggling to lift the stocky officer as he walked outside.
When he closed the door behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief. As he had hoped, all the inquisitors that had been patrolling left with Briggs and Keren.
After pulling the phone out of his pocket, he thumbed through more messages. Only Briggs’ squad and the warrior pack were assigned to the strike. He dialed his lieutenant’s number.
“It’s me. Yes, I’m fine. Just listen. A squad of inquisitors is planning a strike at the museum at 8 am this morning.” He paced by the car, nodding his head. “Yes. The warrior pack is with them.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t know how many. Get as many arcanum as you can to the museum.” With a nod, he glanced at the house. The others would come out any minute. “Yes, that sounds good. I’m on my way.”
He hung up, then opened Google Maps. “Where are we?” he muttered. When the phone showed his location, he frowned. “Kissimmee?” After looking up the fastest route to I-4, he stuffed the phone back in his pocket.
He jumped into the police car, tos
sing the officer’s hat to the passenger’s seat, then reached under the dashboard. With a sharp pull, he yanked out the wires connecting the police radio. If anyone found out about Jordon, the place would swarm with inquisitors.
While Nadria, that woman, and Ordell raced out of the house, he stuffed the wires under the driver’s seat. He sat up as Ordell hopped in the passenger front seat while the women scrambled into the back. Quinlin started the car, speeding off toward I-4.
“Did you find his phone?” Nadria asked. By the sniffling sounds, he knew she was crying.
“No.”
“I’ll try the radio.” Ordell reached over, picking up the hand-held speaker. “I don’t know how this works.” He pushed several buttons, but the radio didn’t respond.
Quinlin used his hand to hide a smile as he heard sobbing from the back seat.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Briggs
“Are you afraid?” Briggs asked.
Early morning sunshine streamed through the Land Rover’s windshield as he turned onto International Drive. Even though the visor was down, Keren had to hold her hand up to avoid the glare. He noticed the artifact tattoo shimmering as the light hit its reflective scales.
“Yes, and no. Yes, because I’ve seen how ruthless the Dark Guild can be. And my magic is new. I know so little about how it works.” She licked her lips and looked at him. “No, because I trust my creatures and I know you’re here to protect me.”
He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She smiled and nodded. “I know.”
While wiggling his fingers between hers, he thought about confessing his feelings. Should something unfortunate happen, he’d want her to know how he felt, how much he loved her. But throwing her an emotional curve ball right before a dangerous battle wasn’t the smart thing to do.
He had made up all kinds of reasons and procrastination ploys over the years to avoid exposing his feelings because he feared the possibility of Keren’s rejection. That would crush his soul. Staying in the familiar best friend zone felt safer. At least it did until Quinlin entered the picture. Flashing lights up ahead distracted him from his thoughts.
As the Land Rover drew closer to the lights, he saw two police cars blocking the road. Briggs rolled down his window as an officer approached the car.
He held up his badge, addressing the officer. “Good morning, I’m Captain Wilson.”
The officer stared at the badge for a moment, then waved them on.
A short ways down I-drive, Briggs pulled into the parking lot of the Citadel Hotel. Medieval-style battlements lined the rooftop with three turrets and a tower completing the hotel’s castle facade. This staging area was two blocks from the strike point.
After driving to the back of the lot, Briggs parked his Land Rover next to two other SUVs. They got out, heading toward Briggs’ inquisitor squad, ten shifters total, who stood off to the side. The squad wore the same uniform as him and Keren, black with body armor and a cam-fit bump helmet.
“You said these uniforms were fire-proof?” Keren asked, running her hand along the material.
Briggs knew Keren was thinking of the Princeton Street attack, where the cursed wolf had incinerated an entire squad of inquisitors. For her safety, she needed to know exactly what she was facing.
“No, they’re fire-resistant.” Briggs put on his bump cap. “No clothing will give you absolute protection from fire. That’s why you need to be careful and stay with me.”
“When someone attacked Mom in the hospital, the explosions burned and wounded several people. But not me, and not Mom. I think One protected us.”
“Well then, let’s hope One protects you here, too.” After spotting his strike coordinator, he waved her over.
“Good morning, Office Howard. What’s the status?” The fox shifter placed her hands behind her back, standing at attention.
“Roadblocks are in place, Captain, and I’ve stationed police officers at every hotel in the area to keep citizens off the street. Tabitha is waiting for your signal to release the warrior pack around the perimeter of the building.”
He clapped her on the shoulder. “Thank you. You’ve done an outstanding job organizing the strike.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Captain.”
Briggs glanced at his watch, then addressed the squad.
“The strike begins in thirty minutes. As you know, we suspect the Dark Guild’s headquarters is in Madam Murray’s. Our objective is to kill the cursed wolf and to take as many prisoners as possible. However, don’t hesitate to use lethal force if you, a fellow inquisitor, or a warrior pack member is in mortal danger.”
Unsynchronized ‘yes, sirs’ rolled through the group. Then Briggs continued.
“We move in from the south, passing the aquarium and The Wheel before we arrive at Madam Murray’s. By then, the warrior pack should be inside. They are the first line of attack.”
Briggs could feel the tension building in the air as the squad members moved about, each performing their pre-battle rituals. One continuously adjusted their gloves while another twisted their neck from side to side.
“I want each of you to run through equipment checks and get with your assigned group leader to review your specific line of attack.” As he turned back to Keren, he saw she had her arms wrapped around her waist and her body shivered. He put his arm around her. “Do you want to wait in the car?”
“No, I’m fine. Do you think the cursed wolf is there?” asked Keren.
He took a deep breath. The thought of taking Keren into battle with the Dark Guild frightened him more than anything had in his lifetime. What was the council thinking sending her on this mission? If he lost her, he’d never forgive himself.
“According to our informants, this is where they’re kept. My hope is this early surprise strike will catch the arcanum off guard. Then we’ll be able to capture them and destroy the cursed wolf before they organize a defense.” As he put his hand on her arm, he stared into her eyes. “If they use the cursed wolf to attack, we’ll need your help. Are you ready?”
She nodded, pressing her hand against his chest, sending a warm pulse through his body.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Quinlin
Quinlin saw the flashing lights of police cars as he turned onto Universal Boulevard. He thought he would avoid roadblocks by approaching ICON Park from the back entrance. Apparently, he had been mistaken.
“Get down,” he shouted while snatching Officer Jordon’s hat off Ordell’s head. He slowed down, clenching the steering wheel as the car rolled toward the officer who blocked his path. While scanning the area, he counted three officers. If need be, he could incapacitate them.
“Maybe we should tell them about Officer Jordon,” said Nadria.
Quinlin gritted his teeth. “No. Just stay down and stay quiet.” He should have killed the officer. That way he wouldn’t have to put up with this incessant nagging.
When the officer waved him through, Quinlin let out a deep breath. He acknowledged the officer with a tip of his head as he drove by.
“Can we sit up now?” Ordell asked. He adjusted his body, which he somehow folded into a tight ball on the front floorboard.
“No, wait until I tell you it’s safe.” Quinlin pulled into ICON Park near the wax museum, parking at the rear of the building. According to the information on Jordon’s phone, the strike would happen at 6 am. He looked at the dashboard clock. It was 5:30 am, plenty of time to prepare for visitors.
“Let’s go.” Quinlin hopped out of the car.
“Wait.” The shifter stepped out of the car. “What’s our plan?”
“We get in, take the Book of Shadows, and get out.” That woman’s voice grated on his nerves. But he was grateful for her persuasion over the shifter.
The shifter put her hands on her hips. “And then what? And what about Officer Jordon?”
That woman rubbed the shifter’s back, speaking in a soft
tone. “Then we get back in the car and find the nearest phone so we can call for help. After we have the book, I can find the curse they’re using, figure out how to reverse it, and stop the cursed creatures.” When the shifter didn’t respond, she said, “You can stay here.”
Quinlin’s stomach tightened. The only way the shifter stayed was if she were dead.
Nadria shook her head. “No, I’ll come with you.”
“Great,” said Quinlin, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get moving.” He jogged off toward the building.
While approaching the rear entrance of Madam Murray’s, Quinlin considered the list of lies in his head to tell the others regarding how he would unlock the door.
“I got this.” Ordell changed into his mouse form, squeezing into a tiny crack in the wall.
Quinlin furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s he doing?”
A few minutes later, the door clicked, then opened. Ordell stood on the other side. “Alarm and cameras disconnected.” His face beamed with pride.
Quinlin lifted an eyebrow. That explained a lot. He stepped inside, waving for Nadria and that woman to follow. He added a reminder to himself to look into adding pucas to the arcanum ranks.
Once the door closed behind them, it left them in total darkness. He heard Nadria’s trembling whisper.
“Turn on the lights.”
After allowing the women’s fear to build up for a few seconds, he flicked on the overhead fluorescent lights. When the bulbs sputtered to life, he saw them huddled in the corner.
He frowned, turning in a circle. Where was the puca? After hearing a small chirping noise, he looked down. A black mouse sat on its hind legs, waving its front paws at him. It wiggled its nose, then scampered off, disappearing down the hall.
“No,” Quinlin shouted. “Come back.”
“Shhh, are you crazy?” That woman slapped her hand over his mouth. “They’ll hear you.”
After pulling her hand off, he pushed her harder than he should have. She slammed into the wall. Her eyes met his. Was that a glimmer of recognition?