Moon Fever

by Ileandra Young

  What now?

  I take the rest of the stairs at a sprint, hugging the inside banister for extra speed.

  One flight. Two.

  The shouts are getting louder.

  I burst onto the main floor expecting to see a riot, but the sounds are still above me.

  The briefing room?

  Another set of stairs, feeling the burn in my thighs now as I race toward the yelling.

  The door to the briefing room is open. Several agents are visible through the gap, some standing on tables, others pointing, all of them shouting or calling over each other.

  I peer through the door. Laugh.

  Two agents turn to glare at me, but I can’t help it.

  Four of my fellow agents, superbly trained and highly-skilled professionals, are standing on the tables, leaping about like clowns trying to catch a cackling, fluttering Norma.

  She glides above them just out of reach, making as much noise as everybody else, perhaps more, all with that throaty clicking I know equates to amusement. In her claws, she holds a hand gun which is clearly too heavy for her to carry comfortably because she fumbles a little over the trigger loop and guard.

  One of the agents on the table is Maury, the round bellied, wide-foreheaded leader of this supposed cluster of mighty individuals. His belt holster is empty.

  Uh oh.

  Maury gathers himself with a shake of his shoulders then leaps from one table to the other, making a snatching grab at Norma on the way. She ducks out of reach with another cackle and a hearty round of “dan dan dans” for good measure.

  Okay. Amusing as this is, it has to end.

  I place my thumb and forefinger in my mouth and whistle hard, a single shrill note that cuts through the bedlam.

  Norma shrieks, drops the gun on the table, nosedives straight into my arms, and nuzzles against my chest with a crooning sigh. The other agents, caught mid-action, pull themselves back to more casual stances. All except Maury.

  His leap, while unsuccessful in catching Norma, did manage to take him over the edge of the next table and into a crumpled heap on the floor. He stands, rubbing at a spot on his shoulder and limping to favour his right leg.

  I organize my features into what I hope is a suitably contrite expression.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he snarls.

  Clearly not contrite enough. “Downstairs. Jack had a message he wanted to pass on.”

  Maury narrows his eyes at me. “A message more important than your job? This meeting started twenty minutes ago. I told you on the way in.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, I—”

  “I’d heard you were a bit of a loose one, but this is going too far. And you have control of that thing?”

  My contrite expression slips. I feel it happen when a muscle in my cheek starts to twitch. “This is Norma, if that’s who you mean.”

  “Dan? Dan dan dan, kar-dan nika—”

  I grab her beak to hold it shut. Now is probably not the time.

  “Norma?” Maury spits the name as though it tastes bad. “Like a pet?”

  “Um—”

  “Will someone get that bloody thing out of my meeting so we can continue?”

  No one moves.

  I push Norma’s struggling form gently into my T-shirt. “I asked her to let you know I was on the way. Like I said, I got sidetracked by Jack when a runner came from downstairs and I—”

  “Jack? Jack who? And what makes this ‘Jack’ more important than official SPEAR business?” Maury finally retrieves his gun and slams it back into the belt holster. He also takes great care to press the security pop stud into place over it.

  A couple of uncomfortable coughs. Some shuffling.

  Interesting. Seems my fellow agents have decided to watch the show rather than intervene. I spy Noel from the corner of my eye, leaning against the far wall, well removed from the scene. He hadn’t been leaping around trying to catch Norma and even now seems to be biding his time.

  He does catch me looking though and offers me the smallest, near-invisible shake of the head.

  I take a deep breath. He’s right of course. But I still want to punch Maury in the throat.

  Instead I keep my voice soft, low, and hopefully non-aggressive. “Sorry, maybe you know him as Jackson Cobé. He had some intel to pass on.”

  More coughing. A sneeze.

  “The mayor?”

  I nod.

  “Mayor Cobé came to see you.”

  It doesn’t sound like a question, but I nod anyway.

  Norma wriggles and I tighten my grip on her beak.

  “Does he do that often?”

  I hesitate.

  Noel leans off the wall, his headshaking more obvious now.

  “Ye—I mean no. No, he doesn’t. So I didn’t think I should keep him waiting. He clearly thought it was important enough to come in himself.”

  Less headshaking from the corner. Instead, a hand, held palm flat in a sort of “steady now” gesture.

  Maury holds my gaze for long tense seconds.

  I wait.

  Norma grunts.

  “And why would the mayor come to you, a troublesome and undisciplined agent, when there are long-standing and experienced team leaders available to speak to?”

  Oh, now I really want to punch him. Maybe a kick too, for good measure.

  “Maybe because he knows I’m damn good at my job. Perhaps better than most.”

  Noel groans and lowers his face to his hands.

  The uncomfortable shuffles and throat clearings drop away to leave a flat, dead silence.

  I don’t care. This has gone on long enough.

  Maury’s dark eyes narrow even further. He walks—no limps—around the tables to reach me and stops within six inches of mowing me down.

  “You. Are. Late. No excuses. See me later when we’re done.”

  “Sure. Glad to.” I smile, but I know the gesture is more a savage bearing of teeth than anything as friendly as a true smile.

  “And get rid of that thing so we can get on with this.”

  “No need for that.” I open up the T-shirt. Norma crawls out of the neckline, across my shoulder, and up my neck to take her usual roost on top of my head. I pat her once, choose a chair at the edge of the table, and sit with my hands clasped in my lap. “She’ll behave now.”

  Silence. It’s thick enough to taste, heavy enough to cut.

  Between the pair of us, Maury and I have the attention of every other agent gathered in that room.

  Noel watches us both through a gap in his fingers.

  “Shall we continue?”

  Maury’s lips open and close a few times. I can see the war in his face, the struggle in his eyes. Eventually he grunts and limps back toward the front of the room. “Everybody sit. We’re running behind.”

  I let go of the breath I’d been holding and scoot my chair left to make space.

  Everyone sits, and after much scraping and dragging of chairs, Maury begins to speak.

  Yeah…this seems to be going as well as expected.

  * * *

  “So with everybody now up to date we’ll assign the tasks. Myself and the other G7s have decided that the best way to do so is through a unit by unit breakdown. That way deputies can then form their units based on the manpower required. Any questions?”

  I sit straight.

  This is the part I’ve been waiting for, though at this point, having sat through thirty minutes of Maury’s circular and ego-stroking “brief,” I’ve come to think of it as reward for getting through this meeting in one piece. And without punching someone in the nose.

  “Actually, I have a point to raise.”

  Maury glares at me. “What?”

  Pause. Deep breath. “Given the nature of the werewolf issue and that we’re as yet unsure about the full implications of the changes, I move that you assign them and all associated tasks to Kappa.”

  “Really. Posh words, Karson, did you plan that on your way up?”

/>   “Actually, yes. I figured I’d better have myself ready because you’d no doubt forget about a core portion of the teams available for dispatch. And sure enough, not you, nor any other of the G7s have once mentioned Kappa.”

  He leans over the table. “Unless called upon, Kappa members revert back to their original units. At present there is no Kappa.”

  My fingers curl into tight little fists.

  I force myself to count to ten before speaking.

  “Kappa is Special Ops and—”

  “I know what Kappa is,” he snaps. “I also know that werewolves are well within the capabilities of any Alpha-level agent. Besides, it isn’t your job to decide or assign roles. This is outside your remit.”

  He’s right. I know he’s right, but I can’t get Jack’s desperate expression out of my mind. If I don’t do this now, if I don’t get a handle on the assignment of these cases, I’ll never be able to help him.

  I glance about the room.

  A sea of indifferent faces stares back at me, all but one. Noel again, right across the table from me, but angled to fall outside Maury’s direct eyeline.

  He’s staring at me, gesturing something with his hands, a loop with a stick on the end, over and over.

  Lollipop? Traffic sign? Tennis racket?

  I widen my eyes at him and he begins afresh, this time with new gestures. A line. A curved line with a straight bottom. A double curve, one on top of the other. An L-shape with a strike down the centre—

  “Numbers?” I mouth at him.

  He nods frantically, signing again, the line, which I now recognize as a one, then two, three, four, five, six…

  I understand.

  “Karson.” Maury is staring as though I’ve lost my mind, but this time when I face him, I’m able to do so with a smile. “Did you hear me?”

  “I did. And in ordinary circumstances you’d be right. But Kappa is a new team and—”

  “You said it. The general is still working out how you fit, and to be honest if you’re even required at all. If it were up to me, you’d be back with us and the rest of your Alpha teammates and there’d be no more trouble, but unfortunately I don’t have the final say.”

  “No. The Kappa team leader does. The highest ranking member of the Kappa team is the agent authorized to mobilize the team and take control over any task they decide requires special treatment.”

  His grin in reply is almost feral. “There is no Kappa team leader.”

  “No, there isn’t. But there is a deputy.”

  A soft hush ripples through the room.

  Noel grins broadly at me, then hides his face behind his hand again.

  I wait.

  “What?” Maury looks lost.

  I lean forward over the table. “Kappa has a G6 agent and, like with any team, in the absence of a G7, that deputy steps in to fill the role. So…” I stand and move around the long conference table to join Maury and the other G7s at the front of the room. “Maybe we need to reopen the discussion about how our current tasks are assigned. Y’know, since previous decisions took place without the valuable input of one of your team leaders.”

  “You can’t.”

  “No?” I scoop up the lanyard hanging from my hip and turn the ID to show off my agent number. “Are you sure?”

  This time, when I glance across the tables, I can see Noel’s shoulders bucking with poorly controlled, silent laughter.

  Well. At least someone is having fun today.

  Chapter Six

  It’s quieter now.

  The briefing room is mostly empty after Maury decided to send the other agents away. Probably for the best, but I can’t decide whose pride he’s trying to save by doing so.

  Not that it matters.

  Only the G7s remain, a handful of agents from other teams I know to look at but not to hold a decent conversation with.

  Alpha, as the smallest and most elite team within this branch of SPEAR, has only one leader. Maury.

  The others watch him as he stands in the centre of the small space, commanding attention simply by standing. I have to give him credit for that; he certainly knows how to draw and hold the attention he requires to get the job done. He always has an air about him that demands obedience or at least respect, something that Quinn always lacked.

  It’s a shame that I need to go against him now because I’ve no intention of losing.

  He faces me, one hand fisted against his hip, the other pointed my way. “What you just pulled is grounds for disciplinary, Karson. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “My job.”

  He bristles.

  I talk right over him.

  “I’ve no idea what your problem with me is, but we can’t let it get in the way of our jobs. Jack—Mr. Cobé—asked to see me this morning to specifically request that I lead any units investigating this werewolf issue. I agreed and now I want to make sure it happens.”

  “You can’t simply waltz in and claim a task like that. SPEAR is about protecting the people, not glory-hogging and ego-stroking.”

  “Is that what you think this is?”

  He snorts. “I’ve read your files, Karson. My predecessor left some pretty full and damning reports about you.”

  “Wait, Quinn? Are you talking about notes from Quinn?”

  “You’re still an agent through luck alone, and it’s only a matter of time before that runs out. How many times can you get City Hall to yank your arse out of the fire? Hmm? Especially when you were the one to put it there.”

  Norma shifts on my head. She had been sleeping, lulled to rest by monotones and monotonous conversation. But mention of Quinn brings her back to full waking and sets the barbs of her tail quivering.

  I pat her back and whisper soothing nonsense to her until the scales on her body lie flat once more.

  “I don’t know what Quinn wrote about me, but you must know that there’s a certain level of bias where she and I are concerned. Besides, this is nothing to do with glory-hogging. Hell, if I could, I’d leave this to you and go back to the pixies we found in the sewer system last week. They need to be removed and rehomed before they start damaging the pipes. And let’s not forget the naga living in the spire of that abandoned church near Harmony Rise. Someone has to get that thing before it snacks on any more unsuspecting bachelor types stumbling back from the pub.”

  “Then why not do that?”

  “Because like it or not—and for me, some days it really is ‘not’—I am best qualified to deal with werewolves right now.”

  There are a couple of angry mutters from the other G7s. One of them, a short Asian woman with her hair caught in a thick braid down her back, lifts her hand. “What makes you better qualified than any of us?”

  More mutters, these ones of agreement.

  “I’m not talking about skill. We’re all skilled agents here. We have to be or else we wouldn’t be here. I’m talking about relationships with the edanes in question.”

  Another woman, this one taller, paler with freckles and frizzy red hair, moves forward from her seat at the far end of the table. “Shacking up with a vampire doesn’t make you any more qualified than us, Danika.”

  Ugh.

  While I knew that would eventually come up, the fact that it did still hurts. And irritates.

  “Oh, come on. Rita, is it? You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  She cocks an eyebrow. “Then what do you mean?”

  “The wolves trust me. They named me a pack-friend. They’re more likely to talk to me and mine than any other agent in the place.”

  “You can’t—”

  “It’s true.” I cut straight across her, impatience finally getting the better of me. “For whatever reason, I have a working relationship with the edanes of the city, which makes it easier for me to talk to them and work with them. It’s been that way for years. If there really is a new pack rising, doesn’t it make sense to send someone who is already trusted by other wolves of the city? S
omeone who can go in peacefully and without appearing as a threat? Someone just wanting to find out what’s going on?”

  The first woman speaks again. “But why can you do that better than us?”

  “Because I don’t need to carry weapons when I travel into pack territory.”

  Silence.

  Seems I’ve got them there.

  “It sucks—believe me, I know it sucks. I originally told Jack to stick it up his arse.” Several surprised gasps follow that comment but I press on regardless. “But he made the same point I’m making to you now. As a pack-friend, I’m protected when I travel into their territory. They can’t attack me without starting some sort of riot. Which means I can go in more easily and more peacefully than you. It just makes sense.”

  They’re thinking it over. I can see them. One or two even begin to nod slowly, and the knot in my chest begins to unfurl.

  “Karson, what happened to your car?”

  Ah. Shit.

  The unfurling stops and flows in reverse.

  Slowly, I turn my attention to Maury. “There was an incident this morning and—”

  “We analysed some of the damage to your vehicle. Given your current claims about pack-friendship and non-violence, the findings are pretty interesting.”

  “I didn’t ask anyone to check my car.”

  He shrugs. “No, but when you bring in a vehicle so obviously damaged by edanes it’s our duty to check it out. For your safety.”

  Bull. Shit.

  “You had no right to touch my car.”

  “It was only an external examination. No one opened it or disturbed it in any way except to investigate the potential causes of such extensive cosmetic damage. We have a few ideas, but it would be interesting to hear, in your own words of course, what you believe could leave six-inch claw gouges in the side panels of your vehicle. Oh, and what could be heavy and powerful enough to dent your roof in so many places.”

  They’re all looking at me now, and just like that, I’m losing the battle.

  Damn it, where’s Noel now that I really need the backup?

  The door to the conference room flies open with a crash. Through it tumbles an agent I vaguely recognize as a G3 from the Beta team. Blood pumps lazily from a gash in his forehead and several tatters of cotton show where his right sleeve once was.