I can barely start typing before the next person comes along with a question or problem.
Most are from my own sub-team, other Special Ops agents clarifying one point or another. I remind them that we have a cross-team meeting in the next half hour and that we should all focus on that.
The responses I receive in return are varied in their phrasing and politeness.
More than anything else so far, their answers prove that my team is composed of agents who think a lot like me. One, a werewolf named Duo, tells me that if not for my insistence that we all take part, he would be in the field already. Another, a stubby goblin by the name of Erkyan, mocks the sheer level of paperwork that will no doubt come of such a meeting, telling me that she never joined SPEAR to be a secretary.
Neither did I.
But I handle it, message by message, query by query, complaint by complaint, until a loud voice draws my attention.
“Karson. Are you coming or what?” It’s the new guy, Quinn’s replacement and my direct supervisor, Maurice Cruush. “You’re going to be late and we will not wait for you.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there—”
“Two minutes and we start. Be there.”
“I said yes, damn it, give me a sec.”
Wow. Maybe this guy isn’t going to be that much better than Quinn after all.
I stand, and look for Norma, searching the high roosts and pillars dotted all over the space.
No sign of her. Weird. Maybe she’s still sulking after the earlier werewolf incident.
“Karson.” He’s still looking at me, deep frown creasing the wide expanse of forehead visible beneath the receding hairline. “The briefing room is this way.”
“I heard you, Maury.”
Guess I’ve no choice but to leave her.
I head for the briefing room, but halfway toward the stairs, I hear my name again.
“I’m coming as fast as I can—”
But it’s not Maury. This time it’s a runner from the Delta team, huffing and blowing, one hand pressed to her side as if to ease a cramp. She puffs a lock of bone-straight, pink hair from her eyes and flags me down with her spare hand.
“There’s someone,” wheeze, “to see you,” cough, “downstairs,” gasp.
“You okay, there?”
“Downstairs.” She gulps in a few more unsteady breaths. “With a troll.”
That stops me dead.
There’s only one person I can think of who would show up here with a troll on their tail. Can this day get any weirder? It’s barely nine a.m.
“I don’t suppose this person is tall, toothy, and very well dressed?”
“It’s the mayor.”
Yay.
“I’m busy. Tell him I’ll ring him—”
“He says it’s urgent.”
Eye roll.
It’s always urgent where Jack’s concerned. I can’t remember the last time he insisted on seeing me that wasn’t some sort of emergency blown far out of proportion.
“I have a meeting.”
The woman finally catches her breath and straightens to her full height. Not that it’s much. “But he’s the mayor.”
“I still have a meeting. Put him in one of the suites. He’ll be fine until I’m done.”
“But—”
“Seriously, he won’t mind.”
She looks unsure. “You want me to make him wait downstairs?”
“Yep.”
“With civilians?”
I open my mouth to affirm, but at the last moment snap it shut.
This early in the morning there won’t be many people around, but that also makes me question why Jack is here. He never shows his face before noon unless he truly has to, and even then it’s under duress.
“Did you run all the way up here from reception?”
The runner nods.
“That’s three floors.”
She shrugs. “Gotta get my steps in. Cardio, y’know?”
“Fine. I’ll come. Tell him I’ll only be a second. I need to let the others know I’ll be late.”
Relief washes across the woman’s face. She nods once then takes off again, a full sprint back across the office space and down the stairs.
Great. Now what do I tell Maury?
I’m saved from thinking about it too deeply by a familiar cackling from my left.
Norma glides through the air toward me, trilling as she comes. She lands lightly in my outstretched hands and nuzzles her beak against my cheek.
“Where the hell did you go, huh?”
She’s shaking again. Not like before, but something has clearly rattled her.
“What’s up, baby?”
“Dan ka ka-kar dan.”
“I wish you could talk. But your timing is good, so listen, okay?”
“Son son.” Norma stills herself and relaxes in my arms. She even turns her head to better look at me, for all the world as if she understands every word.
“I’m going to talk to Jack. You go to the briefing room so Maury knows I’m on the way.”
“Nika?”
“Briefing room.” I turn and point, up the stairs where another of my colleagues slips through the door and out of sight. “Maury.”
Norma growls, low and soft at the back of her throat.
“I know, but better than Quinn. I hope.”
“Nika, nika, nika, nika, nika, nika, nik—”
“All right.” I hold her beak closed with my thumb and forefinger. “Just go do it, will you? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Dan dan. Danika Karson.”
“Good.” I toss the little chittarik into the air and, after one little trill, Norma flies off toward the stairs.
Great. Now to see what the hell Jack wants.
* * *
The troll is the first thing I see when I make it downstairs. A huge, broad-shouldered lumbering beast of a thing, with a tiny head and arms as long as half my entire body. It turns as I approach, stepping heavily into my path with narrowed eyes and a brief baring of fat, blunt teeth.
I wait.
It stares.
Great.
“Jack? Jack, come on, I have shit to do.”
Another figure steps out from behind the troll. This one is taller than me, though not by much, with deep brown skin with the texture of tree bark. A nest of green hair halos the head, though closer inspection reveals this to be cluster upon cluster of oak leaves, rather than true hair.
A sprite, then.
Last to leave the shadow of the troll are two human men, one in a blue suit with dark sunglasses—really?—and another in a pale blue suit and a smart, matching waistcoat.
Jackson Cobé, mayor of Angbec, former fang junkie and current pain in my backside.
He smiles, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Good to see you, Agent Karson.”
“Oh, stop it. I’m not a potential donor.”
The smile wilts. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“Try not wasting my time.”
The rest of the smile fades off, replaced by a grimace. “What’s eating you? Aside from Rayne, of course.”
“Goodbye.” I turn back to the stairs.
“Wait, wait, wait. Sorry, Danika. Really, it was a joke.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“So I see.” He ducks the rest of the way around the troll and grabs my arm.
I would have thought by now he’d know better than that, but I let it go with nothing more than a stern glare.
He coughs but doesn’t release my arm. “I’m sorry. But I really need to speak to you and I’m glad I caught you before the meeting. Come on.” He tugs on my elbow drawing me toward the far wall, on the opposite side of the colourful SPEAR insignia picked out on the floor tiles.
The troll looks down as if searching and, after a long, ponderous second, spots that Jack is no longer behind him. It grumbles, a loud sound like rocks falling, and starts to walk toward us.
Jack stops it with a raised hand.
“Stand down, Honey, I’m okay.”
Laughter erupts from me. “Honey? You called it Honey?”
“That’s the only thing we can get it to eat. We didn’t know what else to try.”
I shake my head. “Okay, privacy, fine, but if you form the majority of your bodyguard team from edanes you’ll have to do better than this. I guarantee that all of them, except your black and white penguin wannabe can hear every word we’re saying.”
“Fine. Is there a room we can go in? Just something out of the way. This is important and it can’t wait.”
I glance about the reception area.
Like upstairs, the space is large and airy, but that’s where all similarities end. This civilian-facing portion of SPEAR HQ is colourful, bright, and packed with agents in suits, carrying briefcases.
Carefully pruned potted plants fill every naked corner, and the walls tell the story of various agents, awards, thanks, and accolades the organization has received in the past.
Among all of that are stat sheets, infographics, and maps, all designed to direct the innocent public through the building without them nearing the working areas dedicated to field agents.
In the centre, a huge desk unit makes a broken square with Delta team reception staff in the middle to answer calls, field questions, and direct visitors toward various meeting rooms on the right, made private by blinds on the inside and soundproofed walls.
It’s to one of these private rooms that I pull Jack, now using his grip on my arm to tow him across the space.
Jack calls over his shoulder to his trio of mismatched bodyguards. “I’ll be with Agent Karson from here, please stand by. You know the protocol.”
The troll nods, and a long stream of dirt flows to the ground from behind its ears, causing the human to sidestep to save his shoes. The sprite shrugs and turns to lean against the wall, arms folded, eyes closed.
“Hmm. These ones are better trained than the last ones.”
Jack snorts. “Yep. And it only took three weeks to find them.”
I push open the door to the office and gesture Jack through. As he helps himself to one of the bigger, softer chairs in the place, I shut the door, flick on the light, and activate the soundproofing via another switch on the wall.
“Now then, what the hell is so important?”
* * *
“No.” I say it again, louder this time. Maybe if I say it enough times, he’ll leave me alone.
Jack sighs and shoves off from the table. “But why?”
“You really have to ask? Or have you forgotten the last time I agreed to investigate something on SPEAR time without going through the proper channels?”
I’ve been pacing. Maybe that’s why my feet hurt, from stomping across the carpet like an angry elephant. But I can’t help it.
Jack, of all people, should know better than to ask me to investigate anything on a private basis.
Agreeing to do so for the last mayor almost cost me my job. And my life.
“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you. This isn’t private investigative work.” Jack falls in step beside me, but his relaxed stride isn’t enough to keep him level. When he drops back, he scurries to keep up, almost colliding with me as I turn at the wall and stalk back the way I came.
“What else is it, if not private hire, Jack? Your news about the werewolves isn’t new, we already know. That’s where I’m supposed to be right now, upstairs with the rest of the team talking about how we’re going to deal with it. Why are you coming to me with this rather than reporting it through the proper channels?”
Jack grins. “And where do you think SPEAR got the intel in the first place? Do you really think I’m that stupid?”
“Stupid? No. Arrogant? Maybe.”
“Come on, Danika.” He cuts across my route, forcing me to stop pacing or mow him down. “Danika? It’s me.”
I sigh. “I know. It’s just…things are crazy right now, you know that. Every team leader on Alpha is watching me, waiting for me to screw up. They clearly regret giving me Kappa—I don’t want to risk it over something stupid.”
“This isn’t stupid.”
“Look, the werewolves are under control. We can handle it.”
Jack sidesteps to stay in my way as I begin another step. “That’s the point. I want you to handle it.”
“But why me?”
“Because you’re the only agent the wolves trust. They listen to you. They like you. I don’t know why, but they do. We have to use every advantage we have if we’re going to figure out why all these turnings are happening.”
I take a step.
He doesn’t move.
Ugh.
Rather than forcing him out of my path, I pull out a chair from beneath the huge conference style desk and dump myself into it.
He joins me in a far more graceful manner.
“Danika, there are three new wolves at Clear Blood right now. Each of them changed in the last week. None of them wanted it. None of them had a choice and they want answers. There are two more wolves—not sure which pack—but they’ve been attacked too. They have huge wounds on their backs and chest that just refuse to heal. We need help.”
“What?”
He grins. “Oh, so there is something you don’t know after all?”
“Jack…”
“Okay, calm down. I’m only saying I’ve never seen anything like this before. None of us have. The three new ones are odd enough given it happened without consent, but the other two? Their wounds are clearly bite or scratch marks, but rather than healing like a werewolf should, they’re still bleeding. And the wolves themselves have been unconscious since they arrived. Well, it’s more like a deep sleep than true unconsciousness. Some of them are muttering or crying out but we can’t wake them up. Nothing we try has worked and they’re still in hybrid forms.”
My heart thuds a little harder against my ribs. “I don’t remember reading that. How is that even possible? Werewolves heal similarly to vampires. That doesn’t make sense.”
“We think it’s related to a new pack power.”
“But new packs can’t rise outside battle season.”
Jack nods. His face is grim. “Don’t preach to the choir. We know. And yet, here we are.”
I swivel the chair left, right, then back again. It creaks with every half rotation. “So what do you want me to do about it?”
“Nothing that you wouldn’t already be doing. My point is I want you to do it. No one else.”
“Jack—”
“Danika.” He grabs the arm of my chair to stop it from spinning. “You know as well as I do that you and Kappa are best suited to getting to the bottom of this. I don’t doubt the other units, of course not, but you have the edge. You know you do.”
I do know.
Putting aside this morning’s odd mishap, I’m one of the few agents even permitted in various packs’ territory without an escort.
I break away from my thoughts to find I’ve been chewing on my bottom lip. It’s sore, but the pain is a welcome distraction from the unease beginning to creep through me.
“I don’t know about this.”
He pulls at my chair. It rolls on the casters until it bumps his. Both hands now, Jack turns me to face him fully.
“I wouldn’t ask unless I needed this. You know I wouldn’t. But I’m worried. I’ve been mayor for such a short time, so many of my plans aren’t off the ground yet. If something like this spirals out of control I won’t be able to help anyone. You know Clear Blood is working on the artificial blood synthesis. Imagine what the world would be like if we could find an artificial blood source for vampires. Or inhibitors for the werewolf virus.”
Damn him.
He would pull the “helping the edane population” card.
Another long, weary sigh. “I hate you sometimes.”
Jack grins. “Thank you, Danika. Thank you so much.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just…just make sure they all know you put me up to th
is, okay?”
“Who?”
“The team leaders. They already hate me, this isn’t exactly going to help my popularity around here.”
He cocks his head at me. “You could try being less difficult. Y’know, follow the rules every now and then?”
“And you could try being less of a dick.”
He smirks. “Really, what’s wrong with you? You’re not normally this ratty.”
“Time of the month.”
“Ha. Yeah, right. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”
I consider correcting him, but at the last moment decide against it. Of all the people I might want in my business when it comes to my menstrual cycle and other body issues, Jackson Cobé isn’t one of them.
The chair creaks one last time as I stand and shove it back under the table.
“Are we done then? Can I go back upstairs, Mr. Mayor?”
“Ouch.” He shakes his hand around in mock pain. “That burns, Danika.” He laughs.
He’s still laughing as I stomp out of the room and back up the stairs toward my meeting.
Chapter Five
Halfway back to the field agent portion of SPEAR HQ, I slow my brisk pace. Eventually, I stop in a corner on a bend of the stairs and plant my hands on my hips.
My back is starting to ache again, but that’s not what’s bothering me. No, it’s Jack and his irritating request. Oh, and the near-confirmation of a new pack.
How did this happen? How could this happen? And when? And what kind of power would allow werewolves to cause wounds to other wolves that refuse to heal?
The unease bubbling through me since sitting at my desk rises and crests like a wave. It makes my stomach writhe and my shoulders tense.
Maybe…maybe if I can get back into Misona—without being chased off this time—I can check in with Wendy and the rest of the Dire Wolves. If anybody would know about what’s happening among Angbec’s packs it should be them and, as I’m a pack-friend, they’re more likely to confide in me. Perhaps if I could just—
A bellowing shout from above draws my attention upstairs. It’s followed by thudding, like overturned furniture and the pounding of heavy feet.
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