by Rose O'Brien
“Talking to the dead? Are you serious? That’s ridiculous,” she said, trying to play it off. “I just talk to myself sometimes.”
“Too late, princess. I already know you’re a seer. Might as well cop to it.”
In her head, she let out a string of curses. She didn’t usually give stuff like that away, but she was a little new at being kidnapped and the situation was kind of stressful.
“A seer?”
The question slipped out, her reporter mode still engaged and, apparently, on autopilot.
“Yeah, that’s what we call people like you,” he said. His eyebrows were raised, and he was giving her a look that said, duh.
“I never knew there was a name for it,” she said, absently looking out the window.
She’d hated this ability since it had shown up. She’d turned twelve, gotten her first period, and seen her first spirit all within a week. Welcome to freaking womanhood.
His eyes narrowed on her and he frowned slightly in confusion. He regarded her for a long moment, his hard gaze making her skin itch.
“You don’t know what you are,” he said softly, disbelief coloring his voice.
“What I am is a freak,” Jen said. “You’re the only person who’s ever known about my little problem.”
He blinked a few times, clearly finding it hard to believe, before he shook his head.
“You’re not a freak,” he said, meeting her eyes again. The streetlight caught in his hair, revealing bronze sparks in the depths. “You’re incredibly special. Quite possibly one of the most valuable humans alive. We haven’t seen one of you for over a hundred years. And my people really need your help.”
Jen’s mouth fell open at his words. Could he be serious? What kind of game was this? “And that’s why I need you to come with me to Damascus.”
***
Theron waited to see how the seer would react to his words.
He was taking a gamble here. There was a chance that the woman was just crazy and thought she saw dead people, but that’s not what his gut was telling him. All of his internal alarm bells were screaming that she was the real deal.
First off, fakers and crazies were only too willing to talk about their conversations with the dead. But a real seer, without any support or training from the people in her world, would do her best to hide the ability so as not to be labeled an outcast.
From what he’d read, that kind of power could be a terrifying thing. Like a mage’s powers, it usually showed up right around puberty. Being able to see and communicate with entities that existed in a different phase of reality was pretty scary stuff for a kid.
No one knew exactly where a seer’s ability came from. While it could run in families, it also showed up randomly in the sapien gene pool. The Council’s last seer had died more than a hundred years ago.
There was a slim chance that she wasn’t actually a seer, but he was willing to take the risk. It meant abandoning his hunt for the group that had taken out half the team in Damascus, but he was sure his superiors would understand and forgive him. Especially if he came home with a brand new seer.
Besides, the group he’d been tracking probably knew he was in town after that encounter at Jen’s apartment. Both of her attackers were dead, but it was a good bet his cover was blown. It was time to get back to headquarters and report in.
His new priority was to get Jen to the Citadel, the Council’s underground headquarters deep beneath the heart of the Rocky Mountains. To do that, he needed to get to a hub.
Hubs were weak places in the fabric of reality that made portal travel a snap. Portals were a tricky business, and the nearest permanent one to the Citadel was in Damascus.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jen said. “I’m not going to Damascus. I’m going to Turkey. I have a flight day after tomorrow.”
“The airport is the last place you want to go. These guys are going to be watching like hawks and they’ll grab you before you can make so much as a squeak.”
She winced and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Well, how were you planning to get to Damascus if I can’t go through the airport?”
“I was hoping to call in for an emergency extraction,” he said.
He’d been trying to get through to his contact in Damascus for the past several hours without any luck. Jerimiah was new to the job of team leader. He’d been promoted after the former leader had woken up with his throat slit in his own bed. That and the execution-style murder of the team’s medic was what had brought Theron to this part of the world in the first place.
Jerimiah was an earth mage and a solid operator. They’d been at the Academy together, but not in the same class. If he wasn’t responding to messages, there was a damn good reason. Theron was quietly getting worried, but Jen didn’t need to know that.
If he couldn’t get anyone on the horn in Damascus, he could call HQ for help. The brass was notoriously unhelpful, most of the time, but stranger things had happened and they might come through for him.
One way or another, he needed to get her to Damascus.
“We just need to sit tight for about twenty-four hours,” he said. “Then, we’ll be headed stateside.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He took a deep breath, clenched his teeth and tried to let the frustration drain away. This was not how he pictured his day going.
“Lady, you have a fanatical group of murderous bastards on your tail. They’ve already taken out two extremely skilled fighters, so they won’t even break a sweat taking you down,” Theron said, leaning into her and speaking in a low voice. “And they don’t want to kill you. That should scare you most of all.
“On the other hand, you have me. So far, I’ve saved you once, and I’m keeping them from locating you as we speak. I have given you no indication that I want to hurt you. I didn’t even fight back when you tried to insert that water bottle into my skull,” he said, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.
He caught her gaze and held it again.
“I’m your best bet, and we’re getting out of here.”
***
Jen met Theron’s steady glare with one of her own.
“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me everything that’s going on and exactly who you’re working for,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She put every ounce of steel she had into her voice. “Until then, I will fight you every step of the way and make your life a living nightmare. You think I left bruises before. Ha! Just wait until—“
“Fine! Geez! Apparently, saving someone’s life doesn’t buy you any kind of leeway anymore.”
She just gave him a look that said she wasn’t budging an inch until he downloaded his info.
“All right, where to start?” he mused.
“Who do you work for?”
“What is this, an interview?” he asked.
Jen had found over the years that holding her silence after asking a question was a surefire way to get an answer. Human beings were socially programed to fill the silence. Eventually, everyone said something, if you waited long enough. After a few moments of Theron staring at the roof of the SUV, squinching his eyes shut and nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he started speaking.
“I work for the Council of Magickal Creatures. They have five elected members, one each for the vampires, the shape shifters, the elves, the fey, and the mages,” he said.
Jen tried to keep her face blank, but she couldn’t help it. She felt one eyebrow arch toward her hairline.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “Seriously? You can do better than that. Space alien is far more believable. Or how about you tell me that you’re from the underwater city of Atlantis? Look, if you’re some sort of foreign operative, I’m not gonna bust you. Just drop me off on the outskirts of town or something…”
He was the one staying silent this time. His gaze was steady, his features impassive as he studied her. Oh, god. Was he being serious? No way. Her eyes narrowed on him.
> “Fine. Which one are you?”
“Mage.”
What’s that?”
“Magick user.”
“Like a wizard, or something?” she asked, incredulity still coloring her voice. She’d humor him for now and see how far he took this. Although she was starting to get a little nervous. He sounded like he believed this stuff.
“That’s one word we’ve been called over the centuries,” he said.
“Uh, huh. Sure.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone.
He snapped his fingers, and suddenly his right arm was covered in blue flame. It wasn’t a roaring kind of fire, and it didn’t even singe the SUV’s headliner. It was like the delicate, barely there flames that danced over cherries jubilee.
It had to be some kind of optical illusion. Putting her hand out, she could feel the heat.
She jerked back, slamming up against the car door. Her fingers scrambled for the door handle, but it wouldn’t open. Holy shit, she had to get out of here. Right. Now.
Fear gripped her lower belly, and her breath started coming fast. Her shaking left hand clawed at the seat belt release, but couldn’t seem to find the button. A scream was building in her throat.
He snapped his fingers again. The flames disappeared.
Jen slammed her eyes shut and gulped big breaths of air as her nails dug into her knees. It was real. What she had seen at her apartment was real. She’d tried to rationalize it, pass it off as some sort of trick, some sort of hallucination, but it was real. He was real.
Opening her eyes, she saw concern marking his features. Those indigo eyes were calm, and he was leaning toward her, one hand on the steering wheel. The other gently touched her shoulder. She tried not to jump or shudder under that touch.
His hand was warm through the cotton of her T-shirt.
Not taking her eyes from his, she reached a hand out, like she would with a growling dog. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing. Her brain must still be fuzzy from whatever he’d knocked her out with. Or maybe this was shock.
Her fingertips touched his cheek, just beside his lips. There was the tiniest rasp of stubble. It was the barest hint of contact, but it was enough. This was no spirit or illusion. This was a man. A mage.
“So, you’re a fire starter?” she heard herself ask.
“Basically, yeah. Although, I prefer the term fire mage. I didn’t go to school for ten years to be called a starter.” His tone was light, a smile touching those lips and he was obviously trying to break up the tension.
“Are there others like you?” she asked absently, her mind still spinning like a carnival ride, all flashing colors and screeching noise.
“Yeah. A few thousand in the world, maybe. Others can control the other elements. My brother is a water mage. My two sisters, they’re an air and an earth mage.”
He had siblings. This strange creature had siblings.
Suddenly, her whirling mind jerked to a stop on something he had said earlier. “You said vampires and shape shifters. Those are real, too?”
“Yeah. Most of them are pretty regular people when you get to know them.”
“I fucking knew it,” she almost shouted.
The sound of his laughter filled the SUV. It was a rich sound and she felt her mouth tug up at the corner.
“I’m from LA, and I always knew there were probably vampires and werewolves and all that. There’s just too many freaking weirdos.”
She felt herself relaxing just a little and could see the tension was bleeding out of Theron, as well.
“What are you doing in Baghdad?” Jen asked.
“Two of our strike team members turned up dead in Damascus,” he said. At her questioning look, he quickly continued. “The strike teams are like the police for the non-sapiens. They keep our existence on the down low and make sure all the magickal folk don’t eat each other.”
“Sapiens?”
“Normies,” he replied. “Technically, mages, vampires, and shape shifters are human, just a different subspecies.”
“Okayyyyyyy,” she said drawing the word out and settling back into her seat.
“Anyway, we’ve had several team members turn up dead in a bad way. Something or someone has been picking them off. They called me in to neutralize the threat. I’m a ranger. That’s my job.”
He filled her in about tracking the suspects to Baghdad and spotting one at the bombing site.
“I saw them following you and tracked all of you back to your apartment. Sorry I didn’t make it there in time to stop them from ambushing you.” He sounded genuinely contrite. “I tried to stop you when you ran out of there, but you’re really fast. Like, seriously, props.”
“Thanks,” she said, struck by how surreal the conversation was. “I ran track in college.”
“It shows. You were out of the building and gone before I was done taking care of that second guy.”
“Wait. Then, how did you find me at the hotel?”
“Simple locator spell. I found your hairbrush in your bathroom. DNA was enough to get me right to the door of your hotel room,” he said, holding up a small crystal that was glowing bright blue. “This glows brighter the nearer it gets to you.”
Jen’s eyes widened as she stared at the thing. It quickly disappeared into the pocket of his combat fatigues. A plan was already forming in Jen’s mind.
She needed to get away from Theron.
He’d said they had about twenty-four hours before he could arrange for an extraction to Damascus. Unfortunately, he had that magickal locating crystal, which she didn’t quite believe was real, but better safe than sorry. She’d work on the assumption that it was real and steal it before she took off.
At some point, he’d have to take these handcuffs off her, and she could make a break for it. He was just one guy. Eventually, he would slip up. And then she was gone.
Until then, she would talk with him, build a rapport, build trust. She’d read a lot of first-hand accounts of journalists and others who had been kidnapped and held prisoner. Building trust was her best chance at getting away from this guy.
A terrifying thought occurred to her.
“What’s to stop those guys from making another little glowing tracker crystal?” she asked, stifling the note of panic that wanted to creep into her voice.
“Don’t worry. I torched anything in your place that might have had usable DNA. But they have plenty of tricks they can use. We’re a long way from safety.”
Theron reached down and put the big SUV into gear again and pulled into traffic.
If she could get free from Theron and steal that crystal, she could activate one of her other identities, disguise herself and make that flight to Turkey.
Feeling better now that the seed of a plan was taking root in her mind, Jen began to catalog her resources. She’d lost her switchblade at her apartment. Her boots were on her feet, and she was dressed in khakis and a tank top.
She glanced behind her and saw that her camera and laptop bags were on the backseat, along with the bag of clothes and toiletries.
Her thoughts ground to a halt.
When he’d busted in, who knew how long ago, she’d just gotten out of the shower. She’d been in her underwear.
“You son of a bitch!” she screamed at him, punching his shoulder hard.
Unfortunately, her left hand was the one that was free, and it was her weak hand. In the confines of the car, there wasn’t much room for a windup, so it was more of a solid jab, but it was enough to get his attention.
Theron raised startled eyes to hers and jerked away while trying to keep the vehicle on the road.
“What did I do this time?”
“I was in my underwear! And unconscious!” she hollered. “And now I’m not. You want to explain how that happened?”
“I couldn’t carry you down the stairs like that, now could I? It was suspicious enough carrying you to the truck, but thankfully it was easy to convince the staff members I ran into that a reporter got drunk and n
eeded some help home.”
She gasped.
“Don’t act surprised, princess. Your profession has a reputation. There’s a reason the Palestine doesn’t stock mini bars.”
That earned a low growl from her.
“And don’t worry,” he added. “I’m a professional. I got pants and boots on you without anything inappropriate happening.”
She stayed silent to see what he would say next. There was the barest hint of color in his cheeks. Holy shit, could he be, no way, blushing?
“Believe it or not, you’re not my type,” he stammered slightly. “And I would never do anything to an unconscious woman. That’s just gross.”
His nervous chatter trailed off and Jen just held his gaze.
Theron changed lanes and made a right turn. This street was darker than the main thoroughfare. His face was suddenly lost in shadow.
From the darkness, she heard him say, “If I touch a woman like that, she’s awake and begging for it.”
Chapter 3
Theron breathed a sigh of relief as the metal rolling door slid shut behind the big SUV and plunged the old brick warehouse into darkness.
The building had been the HQ for the local Mage Corps strike team up until a couple years ago. It was empty now.
He clicked his flashlight on and hopped out of the vehicle. To Jen he said, “Sit tight. I’m going to get some lights on in here.”
“Not like I have much of a choice,” she snapped, rattling the handcuffs against the door handle.
Turning away, he moved over the concrete floor and noted the thick layer of dust. No one had touched this place in a while.
After a little searching, he was able to locate the breaker box and started flipping switches. He was rewarded with a handful of lights popping on. Clicking off the flashlight, he noted he was standing in what had probably been the office once.
There were seven metal desks scattered around the room. Laptops were still open, papers still scattered. All were covered in dust. A weapons locker across the room stood open, rifles, handguns, and an assortment of blades and blunt weapons visible, untouched.