Cold Moon Rising (17 page)

Charles looked just the same, sitting in the chair farthest in the corner. He has that serene confidence of someone who doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone. On most people, the tiny dark eyes over a large nose would look odd and out of proportion. But it really doesn’t on him. The eyes hold so much intelligence, so many years, that you just sort of forget to notice anything else. I’m told that in his animal form, which is a polar bear, he can stand flat-footed and look in a second-story window. I’d sort of like to see that, because it was hard to imagine from looking at him. He’s broad across, built as solid as a tank, but he’s not all that tall. Maybe six foot one.

“Good to see you again, Tony. How have your lessons been coming?” Charles is the one who set it up for me to train with Aspen. He’s another seer, like me and her. I presume his talent is foresight, but he might be able to do other stuff too. Like Lucas, he doesn’t give much away.

“We both got interrupted, so we agreed to meet back up after the holidays. But my shields are stable, and I’m able to manipulate a hindsight vision enough to extract information. So, that’s something.”

He nodded, his hands clasped over his tailored vest like a modern Buddha. A statue with a highbrow British accent. “Excellent. Hopefully you’ve been of use to Lucas in closing out old files?”

Lucas spoke, his voice filled with dry humor. “He thinks my handwriting on old files was sloppy.”

I shrugged and planted myself in the empty high-back chair with tooled red leather upholstery. It put me right next to Ahmad, but there wasn’t much I could do about that, and so far he was ignoring my existence as he scanned through a file folder thick with papers. “It is. Tough enough to go through cold cases without having to decipher every other word.”

Lucas snorted and rolled his glowing dark eyes. “Next file you work on, you’ll get the same quill and ink bottle to work with . . . by candlelight, without a smooth surface. If your handwriting’s legible, you can complain all you like.”

I shrugged again, not disagreeing, but not accepting the challenge either. It was enough that he felt he proved his point, although I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find a quill and bottle on my desk, with all my ballpoints missing, next time I sat down. I should probably practice. I’d love to see his face if I could manage it.

“Can we get on with this, gentlemen? I have to get back before they have too much time to think or compare notes.” Ahmad’s tone was unusually respectful. Maybe it was because Charles was in the room, but I hadn’t noticed that it had ever stopped him from being an asshole before.

Lucas waved him on. “This is your show.” Then he turned his eyes to me. “Tony, this is your official debriefing of the rescue operation. Just answer all the questions as honestly and completely as you can and this will be short.”

I raised my brows. I’d never had a debriefing done before with this many council members. I didn’t mind, exactly, but I was getting the impression that there was something big going on. “Are we being taped?” I’m not big on recorded conversations.

Ahmad looked at me like I was an insect that needed to be squished and opened his mouth—probably to say something offensive or insulting. But Charles raised a placating hand. “No. Nothing will be taped. Only the three of us will be privy to your answers. There’s also no question of punishment, before you ask. We only need information and it seems to reside strictly in your memories.”

He was right. That was going to have been my next question, but since we were just chatting, I leaned back and rested my elbows on the cool padded arms. “Fine. Fire away.”

Ahmad flipped to the first sticky note tab in the sheaf of papers. “When I arrived on the scene, you were saying you were surprised, and you were looking down at the prisoners being taken to the helicopter. What surprised you?”

I dipped my head in acknowledgment. “First, that there were two prisoners—we were expecting one. Second, that the second prisoner was the councilwoman for the raptors, Angelique Calibria. We hadn’t been informed that she was anywhere in the area. For that matter, we didn’t know you’d be there either.”

Another flip, another sticky. “And how did you recognize the councilwoman? Had you met her before?”

I nodded again. He, Charles, and Lucas knew full well where and how I met her, since they were there too. But I answered anyway. “Yes. At the winter council meeting in Chicago. I was working outside security when she arrived and Lucas identified her to me.”

The conversation went on the same for the next half hour or so, every question wrapping just a little deeper into the situation than the one before. At last we finally got to the meat of why I was in the room when Ahmad said, “Explain the circumstances that allowed you to see my actions after we parted.”

“Not just your actions. Your thoughts and memories too. I was you.”

He looked sharply at Charles, who raised brows high enough that they shouldn’t even be on his forehead anymore. “Why would you believe that, Tony? Were you able to actually hear him speaking while you were in the hindsight vision?”

I shook my head. “No, no. It wasn’t a hindsight vision. It was in real time. That was the screwy part. I don’t know . . . maybe it was because I was dying. Maybe it was that weird cave. But I was getting a depth of immersion that I’ve never had before.”

Ahmad’s voice sounded haughty, but underneath it was a light thread of fear. Something about the situation was really getting to him. For both our sakes, I hoped we could figure out what it was, because I certainly didn’t want it to continue to happen. “Tell me something that you couldn’t have learned if you were simply eavesdropping.”

My sigh wasn’t aggravated. It was an admission that I hadn’t a clue where to start. “Tuli called you Rimush, but that was out loud, so that’s no good. She was surprised to see you and wanted to know if you were there to claim the right of succession . . . oh, wait. There’s something that was internal. You were trying to remember what that might mean to her tribe. The Hurnans? Hurrians? Something like that. She got annoyed when you paused and apparently thought you were releasing her from her slavery. You reminded her that you wouldn’t have saved her life when you were kids if you were going to release her and that satisfied her. But you were remembering some prince-and-the-peasant-girl nookie in the back of the kitchen, and—”

“Enough!” The word was sharp enough to cut and I was surprised to see his face darken. Was he actually blushing? Okay, this chickie has got some power over the guy. “Very well,” he continued, and ignored the carefully blank looks from both Charles and Lucas. “I will accept that you had some sort of access to my mental process. Of course, nothing you saw or experienced during that time will leave this room or I will make sure you never live to repeat it a second time.”

“Suits me. Consider it forgotten.”

He looked away from me, his eyes strangely uncomfortable. He locked eyes with Charles and struggled to keep his composure, if his aura was any indication. “I suspect it was the cave where I had instructed them to go that aided in the connection. It was once a sacred cave, and numerous rituals were done there. Perhaps some residual magic activated his hindsight in an unusual way.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me.” I was starting to remember the other bits of the dreams I had. “Part of the vision involved shifters in furs walking through the cave with torches. There was a book they were hiding, and then someone else stole it later. Looked kind of like you, but not you.”

Now Charles leaned forward with interest and spoke to Ahmad. “Was this the cave where the second book was hidden? The one Sargon recovered before we could get to it?”

Ahmad looked more than a little surprised. “I didn’t think so. But we had traced it to that general area, so it’s possible.”

“Of course,” I amended, “the cave’s a nice theory—residual magic and all that, but it doesn’t really explain the other times.”

Apparently, Lucas hadn’t mentioned the two times in Kansas, or he forgot, because both Charles and Ahmad nearly came unglued. “What are you talking about?” and “Explain yourself!” came out nearly in unison.

Lucas had the good grace to look embarrassed because apparently he should have remembered. He leaned back in the chair and put a hand over his eyes for a second. “I’d forgotten that, but Tony’s right.”

He paused and then looked at me curiously from underneath his hand. “But in the restaurant, was that an actual connection?”

“Tough call,” I agreed. “But I don’t know many snakes, outside of Bobby. I can’t figure out any other way that I could have had a flash of knowledge that a cobra named Mustaf gets violently ill from the scent of cherries.”

The file folder nearly slid off Ahmad’s lap and was only stopped by him slapping an abrupt hand onto it to hold it in place. “Mustaf Karzad? Is that who you mean? What would he be doing in America, much less Kansas? The last time I saw him he was working as a policeman in Kabul, Afghanistan.”

Lucas shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “Not anymore. Now he’s a bounty hunter . . . hiring himself out to the highest bidder to track down other Sazis.”

“What?!” Charles was suitably appalled.

“And,” Lucas continued, “when I told him Wolven didn’t sanction freelance assistance, he was kind enough to remind me that only the council could make such a decision, and has requested the right to stand before a full meeting to defend his business. Apparently, he’s not the only one, either—which doesn’t make me very happy.”

The big man in the corner shook his head with frustration written plainly on his face. “We’ll have to nip this new kind of enterprise in the bud. It will most definitely be an agenda item at the next meeting.”

“But back on topic,” I interjected because I really didn’t want to be here all night, despite the fact that whatever sort of magic Charles had over the area was completely blocking the moon’s effect on me. I felt pretty much normal for the first time in a couple of days. “I had one confirmed attachment after the jungle. You were here at the clinic, arguing with Amber about whether to do the ritual on my wife.” I paused and looked him right in the eye, but didn’t hold out my hand. I knew he wouldn’t take it. “Thank you, by the way. I’m grateful for your help, even if you didn’t feel she was worthy to live.”

He shrugged. “Testing the ritual magic in the text seemed prudent before we tried to heal the councilwoman. A human subject was more expendable.”

I shouldn’t have bothered. I just let out a small snort and shook my head. “Be that as it may, we should probably try to figure out why we’re attaching. It had better not be some sort of weird mating thing, because I don’t swing that way. You’re really not my type.”

He looked at me for a long moment before shuddering in that fluid, wiggly way that snakes have . . . like they’re getting rid of an old skin. “I prefer to believe that errant ritual magic may have attached to you for some reason. But either way, it will be useful for our purposes today.”

That raised my brows. “And what are our purposes today?”

Charles took over the explanation. “We’re going to be unusually frank with you, Tony, because we’re going to expect your full cooperation. Ahmad has discovered a way to infiltrate whatever operation Sargon was planning.”

I nodded, and now the conversation at the helicopter was starting to make sense. “Tuli. He’s going to play on her affection.”

“She remembers him of old, and has no reason to believe that he wasn’t working closely with his father.”

Ahmad steepled his fingers just under his nose. His eyes glowered a deep red, making it that much easier to believe he’s been one of the bad guys all along. “Thus far, I’ve learned that whatever he was planning involves a pyramid they’ve discovered near the cave. Tuli was going to take me there, but I told her I had to wrap up some business first, and then I would come down to take over for my father. Unfortunately, Nasil is already there. It will take some effort to get him to believe I’m on their side, so I’m going to have to go undercover.”

Lucas offered a little more explanation when he caught my frown. “Nasil was Sargon’s right-hand man. You might have met him when he was undercover himself, as Antoine’s animal trainer, Bruce. He was actually spying on the council for decades . . . reporting back to Sargon about our movements. But, he wound up deserting Sargon the night Ahmad, Antoine, and Tahira destroyed him in Germany. We don’t really know why. It could be he planned to take over the operation and reap the payoff, or he might have switched sides and is actively working to dismantle what Sargon planned, fearing the result. That’s what we need to find out.”

I threw up my hands, probably looking as confused as I felt. “I’m thinking somewhere in this play is where I step on stage, but so far I haven’t figured out my role.”

“To put it simply,” Charles said, his eyes lightly glowing so that it looked like they were watering. But the magic was so thick it was like seeing his pupils through the bottom of a pop bottle. “You’re going to listen in and report back. We need you to be our eyes and ears.”

I looked at all three of them, but it still wasn’t clicking in. Or maybe I just didn’t want it to click in.

“Huh?”

Ahmad closed the file folder and finally deigned to look right at me. “They’ll search me for wires. I’ll be stripped bare and probably be kept separate from the operation until I can establish my trustworthiness. But the one place they can’t search me is inside my mind.”

Ah. Now the bolt was sliding home. I was starting to think that this was one of those assignments I wasn’t really going to like at first. And then I’d learn to hate it. I addressed my concern to Charles, because he was ultimately the one who was going to make the decision. “Not to throw a wet towel on this plan or anything . . . but I don’t really have any control about when I attach to him. I can’t see how it’s going to benefit you.”

Lucas nodded, but apparently my concern meant little. “You’ll have more control after the binding ceremony.”

Binding ceremony? Um . . . so no. That sounded way too dangerous . . . and permanent for my taste.