Page 17

CHAPTER 17

W hen Master Adolphus stopped by my table at breakfast, I told him about the battle the night before and saw his lips thin and his eyes narrow. When I finished, he said, “Don’t go anywhere.”

He then went up the stairs.

I went up onto the terrace and read for an hour or so, until he came to get me. He led me down to his office on the second floor where a group awaited us. Captain Le Pen, the two older mages from the night before, Master Noah, Colonel Sorento, and another older man I didn’t know and wasn’t introduced to.

The Master appeared very angry and made no attempt to conceal it.

“Kaitlyn told me of the circus last night—the circles you formed in the Langstrasse. I would like to know who decided to use her as the focus.”

One of the men shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, we usually use one of our ley line mages, but when I saw that she was spirit, it seemed like a better idea to use her.”

“I see,” Master Adolphus said. “You just grabbed a young girl to place in that position on a whim?” He turned his gaze to Colonel Sorento. “What kind of brainless fools are you putting in charge of operations?” He stood, placed his hands on his desk, and leaned forward, facing the commander from the night before. “Suppose I have a whim to cover my footstool with your hide? Not out of any malice, of course—just because I have a minor lapse and…” His voice escalated to a roar. “Forget to use my brain or consider the consequences you might endure!”

He walked around the desk, along the wall of books, requiring all of us to turn our heads to follow him. The muscles in his jaw clenched and relaxed, then clenched again.

“She. Is. An. Apprentice,” he said. “A young girl, not yet an adult, only beginning her training, and you decided it was a good idea to put her in a position that could potentially burn her out?” He turned and faced all of us. “Next time I need a human sacrifice for some lame-brained ceremony, should I come and collect your daughter? Yes, I know she’s only twelve, but what the hell does that matter?”

He shook his head. One of the men opened his mouth to say something.

“Master—”

“Don’t! Don’t speak. Don’t try to defend yourselves.” He turned to Captain Le Pen. “You were there. I trusted you to have some sense. To protect her.”

Le Pen shook his head. “I was on the other side of the building. I didn’t know what they planned until after it was over.”

“Well, it won’t happen again. This Enforcer thing is over. Noah, Luka, do you understand me? Over. If you need a tracker, you call me, not her, and I’ll decide if she can go. I don’t know what the hell any of you were thinking, but if you can’t differentiate between a young school girl and an adult woman in command of her magic, then you can’t be trusted. By damn, I was trusted by her family—and I let them down because of you.”

He walked back behind his desk and leaned on it again. “In times past, less civilized times, I did cover a footstool with human skin. I still remember how to do it. Do NOT disappoint me again. Do we understand each other?”

A quiet chorus of, “Yes, Master.”

“Get out of here.”

“Master,” I said, “Does that mean I can’t work out with Captain Le Pen anymore?”

He stopped, looked back and forth between Le Pen and me. “Captain?”

“I have no objection to working with her,” he said.

The Master gave a quick nod. “Then, yes, Kaitlyn, you can work with him. But no going off on half-cocked expeditions with commanders who don’t know what the hell they’re doing. Training only.”

“Yes, sir.”

His eyes softened. “Go on. Go do whatever it is you wanted to do today. We’ll talk about last night’s magic later.”

“Thank you.”

I got out with the rest of them. They went down the stairs, and I went up to change. If I had the day free, there was an event I wanted to attend.

* * *

N ikolas Müller was speaking at a rally in front of the Parliament building. As far as I could tell, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, sparked by the incident at the nightclub the evening before.

There were several hundred people there when I arrived. The crowd wasn’t loud or disorderly. A microphone had been set up on the building’s front steps. I decided it was probably just for looks. Müller was an air mage and didn’t need any help projecting his voice. People carrying signs were scattered through the crowd with slogans such as “Make Our Streets Safe,” “No More Monsters,” and some even more radical, like “Kill the Bloodsuckers.” No need to guess how the holder of that sign felt. A number of them—all printed exactly the same way—read: “Zürich for Humans.”

Müller was due to speak at twelve-thirty and was only five minutes late. Some guy in a business suit introduced him, and the crowd went wild when he took the stage. Dressed in a white, open-collared shirt, a beige sports jacket, and dark brown slacks, he looked relaxed, photogenic, and approachable. He had the kind of smile that made me want to be happy along with him.

He spoke for about half an hour, mostly laying out the philosophy he had explained to me in our conversation. The Compact had failed, the monsters were out of control, and the Guild and the city government weren’t doing anything to contain the carnage. The only thing that really caught my attention was when he said the Universal Church had a much better approach to maintaining order. That meant the Knights.

It was an election year in Zürich, and Müller was running to keep his office, but he urged the crowd to vote for his party—Humanity First. He said that gaining more influence in the government was crucial to making changes. There were camera crews from two TV stations capturing the event. Since there wasn’t a TV in Master Adolphus’s house, I noted their call letters so I could find them on the internet.

Then I noticed the Knights. They weren’t in the crowd, but they stood in small groups here and there outside the area. Watching and listening. I counted a couple dozen, all told.

When Müller finished speaking, he descended into the crowd, shaking hands and briefly chatting with people. Other people circulated through the crowd, handing out pamphlets—which is something the Knights also did. I made sure to snag one of each.

I retreated to a coffee shop and ordered a hot chocolate and a pastry, then put the pamphlets on the table to look at them. The messages were very similar, with the Knights’ being more overtly religious—calling the lycans and strigoi “agents of evil” and “minions of the devil.” The Knights’ message also encouraged the reader to attend church services.

There were other people in the shop, including people talking about the rally, so I wasn’t paying much attention and was taken by surprise when someone pulled out the chair across from me. Nikolas Müller sat down.

“I’m glad you came out to hear what I had to say,” he said.

“I was curious. You’re a very effective speaker.”

His smile broadened. “Thank you. That’s always nice to hear.”

I was sure he was used to hearing compliments. Sitting that close to him also impressed me with how handsome he was. Movie star handsome. Magazine model handsome. His semi-casual attire was meticulously tailored. Living with Dierdre Greenwood—superstar clothes horse—had taught me a lot about fashion. Although I preferred blue jeans, I had a couple of dresses in my closet that I could wear to a fancy dinner with him.

“I’m not really your audience, though,” I said. “Not a citizen, so I can’t vote.”

“And if you were, how would you vote?”

Talk about a trap question. Did he really want me to be rude to his face?

“There was a major battle between the lycans and the strigoi in the Langstrasse last night. A lot of mundanes, along with a few magic users, were caught in the middle. I agree with you that such things can’t continue. But if you’d seen the slaughter, you’d know there has to be a better way than war.”

He shook his head. “We’ve tried to negotiate with the strigoi and the lycans. They aren’t interested. They’re basically savages who enjoy murder and mayhem.”

I pushed the Knights pamphlet to the middle of the table. “If the Church isn’t involved in those negotiations, if the Knights are still hunting the supernaturals as you try to negotiate, then I see why they aren’t interested.”

He leaned across the table, an earnest expression on his face. “Kaitlyn, I’m not a monster. I’m not a warmonger. I’m all for the lycans and the strigoi going about their own way, peacefully developing their own societies. But not this mixed mess where they are hunting us down and feeding on us.”

And that was an impossible solution. The strigoi had to feed. Yes, they could become ranchers, herdsmen, and develop an economy based on raising animals for food. Where they would get the land was problematic, though. I had read the arguments in favor of all that when I lived in Colorado—a place with far more available land than Switzerland.

When I didn’t say anything, he smiled again. “You really are a beautiful woman. Please come to dinner with me. I’ll promise not to talk politics.”

I shook my head. “Mr. Müller, I’m really not comfortable dating a man so much older than I am. I hope you understand.”

He looked surprised and taken off balance. “I didn’t think the age difference was that extreme,” he said.

“I just turned nineteen, barely out of high school. I came to Zürich to attend university. That, right now, is where my focus lies. I’m barely starting to figure out my place in the world. And that is a journey I prefer to take alone.”

I did know that my place wasn’t in some man’s bed. I had enough experience with that when I was homeless and trading shelter for my body. Müller was at least in his early thirties, and since mages age slower than mundanes, he might be as much as ten years older than my estimate. He couldn’t know how revolted I felt when older men undressed me with their eyes, let alone with their hands. His attentions brought me to the edge of nausea.

“Well, I have to go. I’m meeting some friends this afternoon.” I lied, and that was something else I had learned on the streets. Truth is not always conducive to survival.