But, can you blame me?
I had to see Phillip Brown twice today. The first time, he wanted to drag me into another war. And then the terrorist attack, the Necro Lord, the missing golem script and then more damn Phillip and an emotionally manipulative Riaan.
Rifts! I hated the government.
“Hate or no hate,” Treth said, manifesting to walk alongside me as I strode through the Crusader hallways. “You need to take that blood to the lab. And then use the Crusaders as a therapy group.”
“Therapy?” I asked aloud, suddenly distracted from my frustration.
Treth grinned. “Well, you pay the Crusaders to listen to your problems. That sounds like a therapist to me.”
“They aren’t my therapists! I need to fill them in because they share my larger contracts.”
“Right! And then you’re gonna take it all on your own shoulders again.”
“Hey! I’ve gotten better. I let them do some things.”
“Only when the stuff you need to do is dreadfully boring. You aren’t the best at delegating.”
“Sounds like good delegation to me…”
I trailed off as I realised I had been quite energetically arguing with Treth in the middle of the hall. A few Crusaders averted their gaze as they realised I had noticed them watching me.
I blushed a fierce red. The core group of Crusaders knew about Treth, but most of the Crusaders did not.
Oh, Athena! They must think I’m quite mad.
“There was a ghost…” I explained, nodding as I realised my excuse. “But I’ve exorcised it.”
The Crusaders didn’t look convinced.
“No need to thank me. Dismissed!”
Still sceptical, the Crusaders continued on their way.
I covered my face in embarrassment as they left.
“Mission accomplished,” Treth said, with an overwhelming hint of pride.
“What?! Making me look positively insane in front of my troops?”
“I got you to forget about the weight of the world for a second.”
My eyes widened as I realised he was right. For a second, I’d not thought about the necro-terrorist attack or the government making my life horrendous.
But now that he had pointed that out, I was thinking about them again.
“Drat,” Treth cursed and went invisible again.
I stormed through the HQ, my scowl returned, and I made my way to the lab, just as Cindy exited it.
My friend and mentor greeted me with a faint smile. But that turned to a frown as she saw my expression.
“The job with the rabbis not go well?” she asked
“Hard job. Will fill you in later. But first, I need this blood analysed.”
I handed her the baggy with the bloody tissue on it.
She rubbed her chin as she accepted it.
“I can put it on ice for now. Do we need to call a meeting?”
I nodded. “Core group. Plus, admins. Actually, all leaders. So, lieutenants as well.”
“The rabbis sounded super secretive. You sure it’s wise to include them all?”
I waved the comment aside. “Oh, this isn’t for that job. I’ll discuss that with you later. This is for something else.”
“Am I going to like this something else?”
“Depends. Do you like the government?”
“No.”
“Then no. You won’t.”
Cindy grimaced.
“I’ll put this on ice,” she repeated, with far more irritation in her voice.
Cindy re-entered the lab, leaving me with Treth, who was leaning up against the wall examining Ithalen.
“You haven’t told her yet.”
“Told her what?”
“About the mole. Suspect her?”
“Don’t be daft, Treth Avicin. I’d die if Cindy told me it would help. And I doubt she’s under any lawmantic control like in December. The new contract-scans see to that.”
“So?”
I sighed. “I don’t want to repeat myself. You make me do it enough. When I announce there’s a mole, it’s going to be to everyone I trust to hear it.”
Treth nodded. “And who are you going to bring in on the golem case?”
I frowned. This was a bit harder. I trusted the core group of Crusaders with my life, but the rabbis didn’t want me to tell anyone who wasn’t necessary. Cindy definitely was. But I had an urge to go further than that…
“Cindy…and Brett.”
Treth nodded. That surprised me. I thought he’d protest. Perhaps, he had warmed up to Brett. And understood the need for me to tell my significant other about a potentially apocalyptic mission.
Organising a meeting was easy. I went to the Crusader’s communication channel on my phone and sent a text to all relevant individuals. It was going to be a big crowd. Under the core group was me, Brett, Guy and Cindy. Then, under senior members were Hammond, Heather, Busani and Trudie. Under lieutenants: Kyong, Henri, and Ismail. And then finally, Jane and Conrad were invited as the admin staff. They would also be needed. We booked out the Mosh Pit, ensuring that non-essential personnel would use the upper floor’s sitting area if they wanted to laze about between contracts.
And, soon enough, the crowds were here. Guy, Brett and Busani arrived together, covered in viscera. They were laughing and talking about the hunt. With that much gore, it had to have been a decent tale to tell. But, as Brett saw me, he frowned and made his way over to me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, gripping my hand tight. I didn’t even mind the smell of guts. Drake entrails. Could take the hunter out of Drakenbane, but it seems you couldn’t take the Drakenbane out of the hunter.
I nodded, knowing he’d see right through me. “All things considered. But take a seat. I want to get this over and done with so I can sleep.”
He nodded, gave a final squeeze of my hand, and took a seat in the front row.
The others all arrived after a while. Conrad entered wearing an ivory white suit and looking as sleazy as ever. I imagined, however, that the suit would match his wings if he had a mind to manifest them again. It took a growl from Trudie to make him stop nattering with Jane. The two of them got on like dryads and treants.
Trudie, of course, had the Gibson twins and Ari in tow. I was surprised that Senegal also wasn’t there. He was probably with Pranish. Trudie’s pack was becoming its own institution and they needed someone to man her compound nearby. But the Gibson twins were apparently too new to be left alone. And, I suspected that Ari would have been bored back at the compound. Despite only Trudie being invited, I didn’t protest. The Gibsons didn’t really talk anyway. And neither did Ari. Not much, at least.
Once everyone was seated, I stood up. My coat flared, as if demanding attention. I patted it to give it thanks and then moved to address the crowd.
“For those who weren’t at the meeting earlier today, you must have at least heard about the attack by a copycat necromancer warlord calling themselves the Necro Lord. Despite not telling the authorities about our information yet, it seems that the Chairman knew about the message…”
The entire room seemed to still with anxiety. They all knew what that meant. And they all had Darius fresh in their minds. We were overly sensitive about spies.
“We will discuss the possibility of a mole later. But, there are more pertinent matters. The Necro Lord attacked other key points around Hope City today. CDF facilities. He followed this up by phoning the Council to claim responsibility.”
“He?” Kyong asked, looking surprised. It seems he was still convinced it was Candace.
“Yes, Kyong. It isn’t Candace. You should have had more faith in her. But that’s for another time.”
Kyong looked sheepish and slumped down in his chair. Hopefully he’d finally stop with his idiocy!
“As per our agreement with the Council,” I continued. “The Chairman would like to engage in a joint operation against the Necro Lord…Yes, I know. I’m not that pleased with it either…”
“I lost my arm!” Hammond interjected. His face had gone pale at the news. Brett looked angry. They all had participated in the Necrolord Operation in 2035. They’d lost friends.
“This time I will ensure that it’s different. Trust me, you know that I’d have demanded prime mandate if I could. But, the Chairman is desperate to make a stand on this. He wants us to work together with the cops and CDF to bring this Necro Lord to justice.”
“Justice?” Guy snorted. “There’ll be no justice. Only raid upon raid. Tearing at flesh factories trying to stem the tide. But the undead can be raised faster than a hunter can be trained.”
He shook his head and then fell silent once again. But his words left a stark impression on the group. Guy seldom spoke. To have this many words come out of his mouth was a real treat. Too bad it had to be so morbid.
“Guy is right,” Brett added. “The cops just get in the way. And their strategies are…we’ll be wasted on the equivalent of drug raids.”
A few of the Crusaders chimed in with their agreement. The others, who had not been involved, looked confused.
“On the contrary,” Jane interjected, standing by her seat to address the room. “Things have changed. I’m sure that Riaan assured you that we’d have sufficient influence over strategy, correct?”
I nodded. “He wants the arrest of the Necro Lord to be the cops’ responsibility, but when it comes to engaging with the undead and the Necro Lord in a combat scenario, we should have carte blanche.”
If Riaan liked it or not. I wasn’t going to be fodder for the Council.
Jane grinned. “Then I see no reason to decline the Chairman’s offer. It will give us clout. Exclusive contracts with the Council. Like it or not, the majority of bounties in the city are posted by the Council. If this operation goes smoothly, we could get prime mandate for most of the contracts in the city!”
Conrad’s grin widened to match Jane’s. “Think of the revenue!”
“It won’t be your blood being spilt, politician,” Hammond replied, scathingly. Jane and Conrad ignored him as they began making calculations on their phones.
“Unfortunately, benefits or none, I don’t think we have a choice.” I shook my head. “This Necro Lord is after me. And the Council will only let us take him down if we play nice. So, we’re doing this.”
“What’s the plan, Commander?” Brett asked. He didn’t like it, but he’d do what needed to be done.
“Meeting with the Council reps in Old Town at 8am. I want you, Hammond, Henri and Busani with me. Everyone else, keep the hunt going. Dismissed!”
Everyone stood and began to slowly leave. Cindy milled about, chatting with Guy, before making her way to me. Brett stayed as a matter of course. We were heading back to the same place.
Jane was one of the last to leave.
“I’ll look into the mole, Commander.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Be discreet. I want to know who it is. But I doubt there’s anything we can do about it.”
She nodded, gravely. “I’ll think of what we can do with them when we find them.”
Suddenly, I felt sorry for the mole.
Trudie and Jane left together. Probably off to do some more strategizing for their lobbying.
Eventually, it was just Brett, Cindy and me.
“We heading off, Kats? Got enough contracts today that I can call it quits for the night shift,” Brett asked, eyeing Cindy, who was waiting patiently to the side.
“Not yet. I’ve got something I need to discuss.”
“Yes,” Cindy replied. “Firstly, where did you get that blood?”
“Blood?” Brett asked, curious and concerned.
I sighed. I just wanted to sleep. But I needed to get this off my chest. Allandrea and Treth had both insisted that I rely more on others. And that meant I needed to tell them things.
“I went to meet with the golemancers. The contract they gave me is super classified. But I need your help with it…”
“Let me guess. Someone stole the golem script?” Cindy offered.
No surprises that she guessed it. “Keep it hush-hush. Officially, I went to exorcise a spirit for them.”
Brett had paled. “The golem shem has been stolen? Do we have any leads?”
“Just one. Blood found at the scene. The odd thing is that no being should have been able to get into their vault without their consent.”
“Fae and demons can be tricky. They don’t care much for locks,” Cindy argued.
“It is warded to the hilt. I doubt that an archdemon could get through those purification rings.”
“You’d be surprised. But I don’t know what a demon would want with a golem script.”
Cindy rubbed her chin, thoughtfully.
“I wonder if this has anything to do with the Necro Lord…”
“I don’t see how…”
“No, no. She has a point,” Treth added. “I can imagine the necromancers on Avathor committing genocide for just a single golem. Much less the recipe for one. But, to be fair, they’d commit genocide as a matter of course.”
Cindy nodded, thankful for my ghost’s agreement.
“Not everything has to be connected, you damn conspiracy theorists. And, besides, if demons would struggle to get into this vault, a necromancer and some undead definitely wouldn’t be up to the task!”
Cindy and Treth both looked unconvinced but didn’t argue.
“So, what do you need us to do?” Brett asked.
“Cindy, can you get that blood analysed for me?”
She nodded. “Guy has the night-shift so I can be here all night.”
“Don’t strain yourself.”
She shrugged. “I’d not get any sleep back home with the pixies anyway. And Themba is…yeah. I’d rather be here.”
I thanked her and bid her farewell as she made her way to the lab.
“And me?” Brett asked.
I hugged him. “Nothing yet. But you can take us home.”
He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead, before I finally let go and let us leave.
“What’s Cindy’s problem with Themba, by the way?” I asked, as we exited the HQ and began the walk to our nearby apartment.
Brett frowned. “Guy has calmed down a bit, especially around her, but Themba…he’s…”
“Still seeing vampires in every shadow?”
Brett nodded.
I sighed. “Golems, necromancers…I really hope that they are wrong, and the Children aren’t coming. Rifts! I hope that blood isn’t vampiric, somehow.”
“I’m sure it isn’t. But, if it is, I’m sure you’ll figure out how to slay the owner.”
I rewarded Brett’s confidence in me with a kiss and embrace, before we got back home to our fresh apartment and I was finally rewarded with sweet, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 9.
Briefing
It doesn’t matter how much sleep I got, or how many times I’ve have had to wake up early before, mornings were still anathema to me. I’d turned in relatively early for me at 9pm and woken up at 7am. I needed the sleep after all I’d gone through. Rifts! The dark spirit alone had drained me, much less the necro-terrorism and golem case. So, ten hours of sleep was definitely needed. But despite it, I still felt like I’d been squeezed in a vice-grip. Maybe twenty hours would be sufficient.
Bah! As if I had the time. I used to get my rest back in the day when I was in the hospital. But it seems I was now too damn good at my job. No more sick leave.
I didn’t try too hard to look presentable. Just a shower and practicing a fake smile in the mirror. Wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Much less cops and politicians. And, even if I did want to make a good impression, I couldn’t dredge up the energy.
How did morning people exist?
As I thought this, I realised that Brett had been awake an hour before me and was smoking on the balcony. I stumbled out of the bathroom and stopped. Despite my grogginess, I couldn’t help but smile. The apartment still smelled
fresh. And the only thing cluttering it so far were some firearms on the dining room table and my coat humming lazily in the fireplace.
This was my home. Brett’s and my home. It seemed so long ago that we’d met, yet also like it was yesterday. And now, we lived together. I felt warm. In a good way.
I felt Treth wake up at my mood.
“You’re cheerful for the morning,” he chirped.
“You should’ve seen me a second ago. I still feel like the walking dead.”
“Is that an appropriate phrase in our line of work?”
“Couldn’t be more appropriate.”
I opened the balcony sliding door and joined Brett outside. He wasn’t exactly a morning person either. I knew he functioned better at night. Ironic seeing that he hated vampires. But I saw the secret to his demeanour immediately. First, a cigarette trailing smoke into the chilly dawn air. And second, a mug of steaming black coffee on the tabletop next to the ashtray.
Without a word, I took the mug and gulped down the beverage, feeling the caffeine shock me awake. Half-way through, I stopped and returned it to its place.
Brett eyed me warmly and with an unmistakable hint of amusement.
“We out of milk?” I asked, wiping at my chin.
He shook his head. “I knew you’d lay claim to it, so I kept it the way you like it.”
“Black…like my soul.” I smiled. “And good morning to you.”
“Morning, Katty. You ready for today’s festivities?”
“I slay monsters for a living. I don’t really think I’m ill-prepared for most days.”
“You aren’t allowed to slay these monsters. What are you expecting at the meeting?”
I scowled. Of course, Brett was right. Couldn’t slay my way out of this. I hated meetings.
“My gut tells me the cops will insist on raids. Like last time.”
“And we’ll oppose that?”
I nodded. “Too many people died. We can’t just poke at beehives hoping we find the queen. We need to be smart this time. Use intelligence.”
Brett took a drag of his cigarette then exhaled, slowly. Considering something.
“Would that be any different from last time?” he asked. “Drake was on the case then. And he was a good detective.”
Cursed Earth (Kat Drummond Book 12) Page 8