Page 41

I stood in the vehicle bay, strapping on a flak vest while Kara held my blazer and looked thunderous.

Marlow’s response had been curt: Kara didn’t have clearance, she wasn’t getting it either, and to stop asking. I sensed Firth’s influence, petty though it was. Maybe I should’ve closed his door.

“You don’t have to hang around,” I told her. “You can go home if you want.”

“No, I want to be here for when you get back.”

I gave her a smile. “We’ll be fine. It’s just a standard patrol. They run three a day.”

She tightened her jaw. “Then why do I feel the shit’s about to hit the fan again?”

“Iyoni will be with me, along with a Humvee of SPAR agents.” I checked the Velcro was tight then gave her a smile.

Kara fixed Iyoni with a stare. “You look out for him.”

Iyoni had refused a flak jacket, remaining in her long white leather overcoat, T-shirt, and leather pants. “I will. I’m not just an Arbiter, I’m a Sentinel, remember?”

A SPAR agent walked over. “I’m Lieutenant Myas,” she said, running her eyes critically over my flak vest. “You’ll be riding with me.”

“We taking more than one?”

“Two six-seaters. Eight agents plus you two.”

“That’s quite a show of force.”

She crossed her arms over her flak vest. “Before Bay Uni, a regular patrol like this was one vehicle, four agents. Now there’s more trouble, we run two as standard.”

“I want to mix it up—ride with both groups.” It was the best way to feel the pulse of the troops, which was the point of all of this.

“If we stop, sure. We might not stop.”

“Where is the patrol going?” Kara asked.

Myas regarded her impassively. “You’re Kara Hargrave, right?”

“Yes?”

“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m under strict orders. You don’t have clearance.”

“Where is the patrol going?” I asked, as Kara bristled beside me. She threw me a grateful look.

Myas stiffened. “We’ll discuss that on the Humvee, sir, where civilians can’t hear.”

“I’m going back upstairs,” Kara said, tone terse. “I have paperclips to order by size and color.”

She turned to leave, hesitated, swung back with a look full of emotion, then pressed herself against me. Her hands cupped my face, her lips found mine, and she kissed me fiercely. I made to slide my arms around her, but she was already pulling away.

“Take care of him,” she said to Iyoni, who gave her a nod, then Kara walked off without looking back.

Myas watched her go, eyebrows raised. “That’s your assistant?”

“Lieutenant,” I said, “we both know I’m a warlock. Kara isn’t my assistant, she’s my demon.”

“No wonder she’s so pissed.” She gave me a side glance. “If you ask me, it makes no sense Firth blocked her.”

“He doesn’t like me much.”

Myas gave a sharp laugh. “Don’t take it personal; he doesn’t like anyone.” She spun on her heel. “One minute! Mount up!”

“Lieutenant, where are we going?”

“Up to Oakland,” she said as she watched the activity in the vehicle bay, “across to College Hill, then back via Fox Point.” Her voice raised. “Turner! Get that phone away and concentrate on your gear!”

An agent looked up guiltily, sliding his phone back inside his jacket.

I’d been about to reach for mine to text Kara, and hesitated with my hand near my pocket.

But Myas walked off to talk to another agent, and I fired off a quick text with our route.

Kara sent a heart back. I grimaced at the regions Myas had lined up.

Oakland was a quiet residential area, College Hill was corporate largesse, and Fox Point was nostalgia and coffee shops near the river.

“Ever get the feeling you’re being sidelined?” I asked Iyoni. “This route’s about as edgy as a butter knife.”

She shrugged, taking it all in stride as usual.

I raised an eyebrow at her. “No equipment, no flak jacket, no weapons. What exactly do you do?”

“Light aether,” she said, heading for the nearest Humvee.

“Cool.” I already knew that of course, but had no idea of what it entailed in practical terms. I hoped it was more than the Advil-substitute … not that we’d need it.

The Humvees pulled out of SPAR HQ, rolling sedately east toward the city.

It was raining again, dark clouds giving a gloomy feel.

The windscreen wipers flicked back and forth, loud enough to highlight how quiet it was.

Iyoni sat next to me, relaxed like she was meditating, but the two troopers on the opposite bench kept alternating between staring at me and avoiding my gaze.

Myas was up front, one hand on the Humvee’s radio, which crackled with the occasional traffic from command.

We turned north toward Oakland, and there was nothing to see but wide roads, light traffic, colonial-style houses, and trees without leaves.

“If this is how the whole patrol’s going to go, you guys mind if I sing?”

One of the troopers flinched like I’d smacked the window, and both glanced at me guiltily. “Sorry, sir. Assistant Director. We’re just not used to having a warlock around.”

“Three titles in one line. Nice job.”

He gave a bashful grin.

“What about you?” I asked the other one. Her spine snapped straight, eyes darting to mine before settling somewhere near my shoulder. “Are you used to having a warlock around?”

“Er … no, sir. You’re the only one.” She blushed, realizing too late that I was teasing.

“Lighten up, guys. We’ve got nothing to do but talk.”

“Can I ask a question?” the first trooper said.

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“Max, sir. Assistant Director.”

“God, stop doing that already. Just call me Xan, or ‘sir’ if regulations won’t allow.”

“Sorry, sir—Xan.”

I facepalmed. “One or the other, trooper, I’m not a knight.” There was an awkward chuckle. “Go on, ask your question.”

“Um … what’s it like being a warlock?”

“Good question. I’ve been a warlock for two weeks, so too early to say. So far, it’s half death threats, half being babysat on cushy patrols.”

They looked suitably awkward. Myas twitched in the front seat.

The other trooper tentatively raised her hand.

“Chill, seriously,” I told her. “We’re not in class. What’s your name?”

“Lavender, sir. How come your powers came in so late? You’re what … already twenty-five?”

Reasonable guess, given my slow aging. “I can’t answer that. Ask me something else.”

“Sorry, sir.” She probably thought it was classified, not that I didn’t know. “Um … is it true you can bond demons and they have to do whatever you say? Can I ask that?”

“I’ve done that once. It’s not like I can just pick any demon and …” I snapped my fingers. It would’ve been ironic if I could. Just bond Moreau and Dacien and make all my problems go away.

“I have a question,” the driver piped up. “Samuel, sir.”

“Go ahead, Sam.”

“The forums say you get more powerful from having sex with your demons. That true?”

There was a ribald chuckle, the awkwardness starting to fade.

“You asking because you’re a demon, Sam?”

They laughed more naturally.

“No, sir. Half-fae.”

“Ah, a charmer. No wonder your mind goes straight to sex.” It made me think of Paul, and that led to Emma. It had only been a week since I’d seen them, but it felt far longer.

“So is it true?” Sam pushed amid the others’ laughter.

“Cut it, trooper,” Myas snapped, killing the mood. “Keep your questions respectful.”

Lavender opened her mouth to ask another, then closed it before she did, her expression thoughtful. After that, the questions were bland, and faded away as we drove on. The journey grew tedious, the silence occasionally broken by the radio picking up command traffic.

My phone vibrated with a text from Kara. I’m in an Uber on your tail. Sorry it took so long. I had to bribe the driver coz I don’t have a destination.

What’s the going Uber rate for ‘follow that SPAR patrol’?

The price of peace of mind.

I gave a chuckle, liked the message, and tucked my phone away. But she was right; knowing she was there helped.

College Hill offered a change of scenery—concrete and glass corporate skyscrapers all built in the last fifty years.

This part of Providence had been levelled in the norm-supe wars of the mid twentieth century, but now it housed commerce and innovation, much of its growth due to supe-led corporations.

Moreau probably owned swathes of it, Dacien a bunch more, with other supe factions staking their claim.

Despite all the incidents the city had seen of late, none of them had happened in this district.

Either norms weren’t stupid enough to attack supes here, or the supe factions were policing it themselves.

The radio crackled again, urgency in the transmission that hadn’t been there before.

“Possible one-eighty-seven at two-twenty Wickenden Street. Group of supes reported in the area without glamours. Be aware, norms are armed.”

“What’s a one-eighty-seven?” I asked Myas.

“Not our problem,” she said. “Turn here.” She pointed west, and the driver took us down the new road.

“Wait … Wickenden Street is in Fox Point, isn’t it?”

The radio blurted again. “Command, patrol three. We’re twelve minutes out from that one-eighty-seven. Responding now.”

“Copy, patrol three.”

I pulled up Google Maps. “Myas, we’re three minutes from Wickenden Street, and we’re heading the wrong way.”

“I have my orders, Assistant Director.”

“I’m countermanding those orders,” I said through gritted teeth. “Turn us around, and do your damn job.”

Myas swiveled in her seat to glare. “This is my damn job.”

I held her gaze. “What’s a one-eighty-seven?”

She clenched her jaw. “Supe attack on norms.”

“Lieutenant Myas, I’m giving you a direct order.” I could pull rank when I needed to. “You’re done babysitting, and we will respond to that incident.”

She gave me a predatory grin, baring her teeth. “Glad to hear it, sir.” She thumped a button on the dash, and the lights and sirens fired up. “Get us over there,” she said to the driver, and reached for the radio. “Command, this is patrol five. We’ll take that one-eighty-seven.”