Authors: Rob Cornell
Tags: #magic, #horror, #paranormal, #werewolves, #action, #thriller, #urban fantasy
Lockman lifted the lock of hair as if Kress stood there in person and could see it. “Would you listen a second. I have something—”
“That’s an order, Lockman. Commander in Chief put me in charge and you as my second. Don’t forget that.”
“And this place? Do you have any idea of the mess here?”
“I’ll send a clean-up crew.”
Before Lockman could say any more, the line went dead.
“Son of a bitch.”
“What is it?” Jessie asked.
“The boss is calling us in. We’re done here.”
Mica snapped off her latex gloves and tossed them to the floor, brushed her hands together, and already started for the door, dutiful as ever.
Jessie came over to Lockman’s side and pointed at his raised hand that held onto the blonde lock. “You find something?”
“Damn right I did.” Lockman pulled a plastic baggie from his pocket and bagged the hair. He’d have some techy look at it back at HQ whether Kress wanted to follow up or not. If Teresa Stevenson was running her own vampire kill club in New Orleans—which made perfect sense, considering what happened to her sister here—she never would have let a mission like this go so sideways. Not unless she had gotten sloppy. And sloppy meant unstable. Slaughtering New Orleans vamps on some revenge kick. A dangerous path.
The boys in this room had learned that the hard way.
Chapter Two
Her dad was keyed up. Jessie could feel the buzz coming off of him the whole flight back to headquarters. Mica rode with her eyes closed, though Jessie could tell she wasn’t sleeping. Did pixies sleep? Who knew?
Dad, though, couldn’t keep from fidgeting, and his hand kept going to his shirt pocket where he’d tucked that baggie with the hair in it. When she’d asked him about it, he gave her one of his
I Ain’t Talking About it
grunts. She knew him well enough by now to recognize any further questioning would win her nothing but more grunts.
It bugged him, though. Which meant it bugged her, too.
When the three of them filed into Kress’s office for a debrief, Dad started right in.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but I’ve got something you need to see.” He put his hand to his pocket, but Kress raised his own hand.
“I’ll look at it later. Right now, I need to speak with Jessie.”
Her dad’s face grew all sorts of lines. He looked older than Jessie had ever noticed before. “About what?”
“That’s between the two of us.” He nodded once each to Lockman and Mica. “If you don’t mind stepping out for a minute.”
The lines in her father’s face deepened. The burning in his eyes made Jessie’s cold vampire skin a little colder. He looked about ready to throat punch Kress, and then maybe eat his face.
“It’s okay, Dad.” She rested a hand on his arm. “He’s gotta know I’ll tell you whatever he says afterward. No secrets between us.”
Kress lifted one eyebrow. “You’re a part of a government organization now. I could order you to keep our conversation private.”
“Yeah, and the teen girl with the fangs is just gonna roll over and do whatever you say.” Jessie snorted. “Besides, what are you gonna do? Put the Chosen One in prison?”
Kress’s mouth curled down. He smoldered much like his famous movie villain characters would after a glib rebuke from the starring hero. Then he sighed, steepled his fingers, and said, “I’d only like a moment alone to discuss a situation that directly relates to you. I’m not asking you to keep any secrets.”
“Good enough for me.” She looked at her dad. “It’s totally cool.”
His cool gray eyes studied Jessie for a moment, the deepest lines around them softening. “You are so much like your mother.”
Something sharp pinched Jessie in the side, like a runner’s stitch, only deeper. She didn’t want to talk about Mom. Didn’t want to think about her. Not yet. Better to get caught up in the supernatural superhero stuff, go out and kick monster butt.
“Whatev. Go do what you gotta do while I have my special meeting.” She tried to point with her gaze at his shirt pocket, but couldn’t tell if he got the hint. He just gave Kress one last glare, then grunted and stormed out of the office.
Mica tilted her head to Kress. “Let me know you need anything, love.” Then she turned and followed Lockman out, leaving Jessie and Kress alone in the office.
“Have a seat,” he said and gestured to a chair across from his desk.
Jessie had flashbacks to those days in school getting sent to the principal’s office, or worse, the school counselor. She folded her arms. “Cool if I stand?”
“Suit yourself.” He leaned back in his chair, mouth open to say something, but winced instead.
“Something wrong?”
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly through his nose, and shook his head. “Just some minor back pain. In
Battle Cry 2
, I had the brilliant idea of doing my own stunts. Never again.”
“
Battle Cry 2
, huh? Not one of your best flicks.”
His eyebrows went up and a light smile touched his face. “You’ve seen it?”
“I’ve seen just about every movie ever made…” Her shoulders sagged. She noticed that iron smell that seemed to follow her everywhere. “Before I went vamp, anyway.”
Kress cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for that. But you do realize how special you are? This turn in your fate, becoming a vampire who retained her soul, having access to the power of millions of souls—”
“Like the one responsible for wiping out over eight hundred people, and who made me kill my own mother?” She curled her lip. A muddy taste filled her mouth. “Yeah. Real special.”
“You have to understand, the tragedies you’ve suffered have all served a greater purpose. Those events brought you here, to me, to this facility, to a point where you can fulfill the prophecy so many have heard about, but so few understand.”
Jessie’s jaw hung open. She could feel the recycled air of this underground level of Kress’s precious facility drying out her tongue. “You know what you sound like?”
He leaned forward, hands folded on his desk, all interested in what the little vamp girl had to say.
“A psycho religious zealot. All these bad things that have happened to you. All part of God’s plan.” She pointed a finger toward the ceiling. “It’s bullshit from them.” She pointed at him. “And it’s bullshit from you. In case you haven’t noticed, all I’ve managed to do is make things worse in the world, not save it.”
“You staunched the threat of a vampire army. The death of all those vamps gathered in Barrow has the rest of the population spreading thin for fear of something similar. These groups still holding together, our Agency is systematically obliterating with drone attacks and black-ops strikes.”
A feeling of having to burst filled Jessie’s chest. The only way to relieve it was a jagged, barky laugh that echoed back to her from the corners of the room and made her cringe. “You’re nuts. Barrow was a freaking
bloodbath
. Four-thousand people killed or turned into vamps.”
“Yet it could have been so much worse.”
“It
would
have been if my mom and dad weren’t such a fucking badasses. They stopped
me
from leading a bunch of sunwalking vampires on a cross-country feeding spree.”
Kress sucked in a long breath and let it sigh out like a leaking tire, his eyes slightly rolled back in his head. He drummed his fingers on his desk. “There’s no point in arguing about it. What’s done is done. And fate has brought us to a place where we can finish the rest.”
Even underground, Jessie could sense the sunrise outside, her vampiric circadian rhythm making her sleepy. She gave in and took Kress’s offered seat, rubbed her eyes, then stared him down. “You didn’t send my dad out so you could spend time telling me how special I am. What do you want?”
“Did Gabriel ever tell you about The Return?”
“All he ever said was that he didn’t believe in it.”
“Didn’t believe in its purpose, or didn’t believe it possible?”
She shrugged. “Just that he didn’t believe in it. He never elaborated. Wasn’t on his agenda, I guess.”
Kress leaned back in his chair. A large American flag hung on the wall behind his desk like a stage backdrop. On either side of the flag hung framed copies of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. Another, small flag sat on his desk next to a cup full of pens. Trappings of a government office that seemed so out of place considering what Jessie knew about their operation. The bulk of the core staff at the Agency weren’t exactly
from
America. They weren’t even from this plane of existence. Heck, the Agency’s headquarters had been built into a facility that belonged to Kress, as if he owned the Agency himself.
She didn’t know why it bothered her, but it did. There was something false about it all. Mere props to satisfy an ideal that no one here truly respected, or cared about.
As if to prove this point, Kress said, “Despite our official role as decreed by the president, the only real mission I care about is facilitating The Return.”
“Your hobby, funded by tax-payers’ dollars.”
“Don’t get glib. Your mother understood the importance of The Return. But no one has had a chance to explain it to you.”
“I’m not an idiot. I get it.”
“The Return means ridding the mortal plane of all the things that don’t belong here. Vampires, werewolves…perhaps even ghosts.”
She knew he was trying to bait her with that last one. Jessie’s friends and family hadn’t had the best of luck when it came to non-corporeal specters. But she didn’t bite. Kept quiet.
He waited a couple seconds, then changed tacks. “The reason I wanted to talk to you—”
“Now we get there.”
“—is because of an incident that occurred outside of Detroit. It involves a young man you once knew who’s been hospitalized—”
“Ryan?” The tempo of a vampire’s heart is naturally erratic. Jessie’s stopped beating for three seconds straight. She’d almost forgotten about Ryan and hated herself for it. He had stood up against a ghost to save Jessie’s life and become possessed by it. When the ghost left Ryan’s body, Ryan was left insane. It had happened to her mother, too, but Jessie had been able to cure her mother’s madness with magic. She’d never had the chance to do the same for Ryan.
Kress was saying something else, but Jessie hadn’t heard any of it.
“What’s happened? How did you find out about it?”
“I’m trying to tell you.”
“Then just tell me God damn it!”
The snarling sound of her voice rang familiar in her ears. It sounded an awful lot like Gabriel when he spoke angrily through her. Jessie pressed her fist against her mouth, pressing her lips against her fangs.
Kress sat very still, his eyes the only part of him moving as they traced a line from her face to the closest edge of his desk. His hands had slipped out of sight behind the desk, as well. Jessie wondered if he had a panic button—or a weapon—back there.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She rested her elbows on her chair’s arms, took a steadying breath. “It’s a sensitive issue.” Then, adding enough snark so that he knew she hadn’t let him completely off the hook, “But you already knew that.”
His hands came out from behind his desk. He laced his fingers together and propped his forearms against the desk’s edge. Jessie was struck again by the feeling of getting sent to the principal’s office.
“We’ve had some people watching Ryan. He’s a part of your path, and since you are the key to The Return, we make sure to observe all stops on that path. Earlier this evening…” He looked at his watch. “Technically yesterday now. During an outburst, Ryan used the specific phrase, The Return. There is no reason for him to know that term. We believe fate has again nudged us toward the prophecy’s fulfillment.”
You’d think she would get used to all that talk about fate and prophecy. It grated on her probably as much as the word
magic
drove her dad nuts. She would have to come up with a pet name for prophecy. Dad had
mojo
instead of
magic
. She could have something like
forecast
or
Big Stupid Prediction About My Life Nobody Ever Bothered to Check With Me.
“What did he say exactly?”
Kress’s lips formed a line. His gaze skated away.
“Come on, boss, fess up.”
“I don’t want to upset you.”
“That’s cute.”
He glowered. “You’re as stubborn as your father, you know that?”
“He thinks I’m more like Mom. Others think I’m more like the Virgin Fucking Mary or something. How come I can’t just be me?” She waved a hand. “Forget it. Just get to the point.”
He looked relieved not to have to answer her question. “Ryan insisted that someone be stopped.”
“Who?”
“He never made it clear. The closest he came was calling her, quote,
The beast woman. The one who’s going to ruin everything.
“
Jessie squeezed her eyes shut. In the dark, she pictured Ryan way back, a zillion years ago, when they used to make out on his mom’s couch. The house had always smelled like her Virginia Slims and spearmint gum. If Ryan could see her now.
It sounded like he had.
“He’s talking about me.”
“Nonsense.”
She held her hands out at her sides. “I think I qualify as pretty beastly. And I have a reputation for ruining things. Why not
every
thing?”
“Self-pity will get you nowhere with me, my dear.” His voice turned to chocolate syrup warm enough to start the ice cream melting. He’d done voiceovers for commercials using that voice. “To me you are a savior in waiting.” He leaned in as if he meant to tell her a secret. “You know The Return isn’t only about ridding the earth of paranormal threats. For many of us, it’s our chance to return home, to be where we belong, where we fit
in
.”
She’d never considered that. But, boy, could she understand it.
“Okay, so let’s assume Ryan wasn’t talking about me. Then who?”
“That’s what we’d like to find out. What we’d like
you
to find out.”
Chapter Three
The sound of Kress’s office door hitting the wall sounded like a shot from a small caliber pistol, much like the 9mm Lockman had in his shoulder holster and was itching to draw on the man so smugly parked behind that government desk.