Page 22 of Cast in Shadow (Drenched in Darkness #1)

22

I made it back to the hotel and headed straight up to my room. After my “run” in the woods with Emerson, there was no way I was going downstairs to talk to Nguyen and the others without a shower and clean clothes.

My second-in-command was already edgy. If he smelled Emerson’s scent on me again, I had a feeling it would make for a long damned day.

By the time I made it downstairs in a fresh pair of indigo jeans, a black knit sweater, and my damp hair twisted into a tight bun at the base of my skull, the place was crawling with activity. I’d missed the morning meeting, but Dennis and Shay were still in the conference room and deep in discussion about something serious by the look of it.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked, though it was obvious that was exactly what I was doing.

“Nope.” Dennis edged away from where Shay was perched on the table. “How’s it going, boss?”

That was a loaded question. Setting aside the way he was putting space between himself and Shay now that I was in the room, and how much that tiny move irked me, I offered him a half-shrug. “It’s going. What did I miss?”

“Morning meeting was eventful.” He punched a few keys on his laptop and the smartboard lit up with images of my least favorite witch. “Mimi’s facial recognition isn’t really built for this kind of thing, but I’ve managed to patch into a few of the public feeds so we can try to monitor Navali in real time. Well, real-ish time. These shots are a couple hours old.”

One by one, the images expanded so they took up the entirety of the screen. It was her, but even with the sketchy resolution, it was easy to see the dark circles under her sunken eyes and the shadows in the hollows of her cheeks. Whatever she was up to, it was taking a serious toll.

“Where is this?” I asked, pointing to a shot in what looked like an affluent residential neighborhood.

“Andreno Heights,” Dennis said. “Nguyen took Bravo to patrol the neighborhood, and I’ve got Golf gearing up to hit the surrounding area.”

“Good. Let everyone know to keep it low key. There’s no need to scare people with a tactical presence. And remind them that they are not to engage if they don’t have to. We want eyes on her, not more bodies in the morgue.”

“Nguyen’s going to buck that order,” Dennis said.

He might. We’d all seen what Megan was capable of with the slaughter at the campsite. He might also be itching for a fight, but no matter how frustrated he was, he would never sacrifice his team for revenge.

Then again, he was also one of the best sharpshooters in the country.

“Fine. If Nguyen can get a clean shot, he can take it. But only if he’s damned sure that shot will take her out.” I pulled in a breath, bracing for the next part. “And tell him to meet me at The Sly Fox at seven tonight. Bravo can handle the evening surveillance without him.”

Dennis and Shay both shot me a look like they weren’t sure they’d heard me right.

“You’re going out drinking?” Dennis asked, sounding annoyingly impressed.

“Not exactly, and I’ll need you and Shay there too.”

“What’s going on?” she asked, perking up.

Something that would undoubtedly piss them all off. “We need to talk, but not here.”

“Why am I getting a bad feeling about this?” She eyed me suspiciously.

Probably for the same reason I was.

Nguyen stalked through the front doors of The Sly Fox almost an hour late looking like he was ready to tear someone’s head off. At least he’d left his tactical gear at HQ. Olive-green cargo pants and a black leather jacket over a black shirt could blend in just about anywhere these days.

I stood to motion him over, and when he zeroed in on me back in the corner, it was clear I was the source of his frustration.

He stopped a good six or seven feet away and growled, “Why the hell did you pull me away from my mission?”

I cast a sideways glance toward Shay before cutting back to him with a warning glare. He followed my gaze, seeing the way she was watching us, her hazel eyes filled with worry, and pressed his lips together.

His expression softened apologetically. “Sorry,” he said, much gentler this time.

Her response was a slow nod, but her eyes stayed glued to his. They held each other’s stare for a few seconds before he finally turned his attention back to me.

I held up a hand, cutting him off before he had a chance to open his mouth again, and motioned to the whiskey neat sitting on the table next to an empty chair. “Take a seat.”

“I’ll stand.” He shoved one meaty hand through his sandy hair. “You realize we lost Navali, right? I should be out there looking for her with everyone else, not here having drinks.”

Rolling my shoulders back, I took on his frustrated gaze. But as tempted as I was to snap back, that would just make things even more tense.

When did things become so fraught between us?

There was a time not all that long ago when we could talk to each other about damned near anything. Emerson was part of his issue, now, but in truth, the tension between us had been building for months. To the point where just being in the same room seemed to be a problem.

I inhaled deeply, cataloging the menagerie of scents in the bar. A dozen different brands of cologne and perfume lingered in the air, mixed with the savory aromas of crispy smashed potatoes and piping hot spinach artichoke dip with toasted sourdough bread. Beneath it all was the ever-present tinge of Guinness and whiskey.

I let the atmosphere anchor me. Calm and in control was the name of this game. Especially when Nguyen was tired and irritated, and clearly worried about Shay.

The longer the Navali mission dragged on, the easier it was to see just how much he needed a break.

Dennis and Shay sat up a little straighter as I put myself in check. He smoothed his hands down his wrinkled khakis. She tugged on the strings of her black hoodie, drawing the hood a little tighter around her neck. I knew without looking that on the back of that well-worn hoodie was a sprawling, weathered Tree of Life, pressed in distressed pink ink.

Turning my attention to Nguyen, I said, “You’re here because we need to talk. All of us.”

He studied me for a beat, cast another quick look at the others, then lowered himself into the seat. Instead of sinking into the plush leather club chair, he perched himself right at the edge with his elbows on his knees. “Let’s get on with it.”

Straight to the point then. I grabbed my own glass of Redbreast 15 Year Old Irish whiskey but didn’t drink. “Given the recent developments with the Navali case,” I started, swirling the amber liquid in its glass. “I think coordinating with Emerson to take her down is our best bet.” I’d planned on saying more, but Nguyen erupted in protest.

“Fuck no.” He launched to his feet, fury shining in his brown eyes. “Are you out of your mind?”

He seemed to swell in size with the way his broad shoulders rounded. He took a half step toward me before I raised my glass to my lips and shot him a pointed look as I took a sip. It was a warning. As an agent, he knew better than to try to intimidate me with his size. The day he crossed that line would be the last day we worked together.

He caught himself and eased back, but his stance was as rigid as ever.

Dennis was also on his feet, except instead of facing me head on, he’d positioned himself between me and Shay. His worried gaze bounced between us.

“You can’t be serious,” Shay said quietly, trying harder to avoid drawing attention than the tactical expert who was at least twice her age.

I pulled in another slow breath and checked the pulse of the room around us. Nguyen’s outburst had caught the notice of the people closest to us, but they quickly lost interest when they realized our disagreement wasn’t going to devolve into a fist fight.

“I know this is a big ask after what Phineas did,” I said calmly. “But I wouldn’t ask at all if it wasn’t important.”

“So, this isn’t an order?” Dennis asked.

“This is a discussion,” I replied.

Could I pull rank and try to force their hands? Sure. Was that a great way to lose the trust and respect of those closest to me? Absolutely.

They’d had barely twenty-four hours to process the torture they’d endured. Nguyen’s shifting had healed his wounds. Shay’s unique physiology had done the same for her. But physical pain was only one facet of torture, and I doubted either of them had even scratched the surface of dealing with the emotional and mental side of it.

“If you don’t want any part of this mission, there’s the door.” I pointed toward the front of the bar. “I won’t hold it against you. And if you think you have a better idea, I’m willing to listen. All I’m asking, for now, is that you hear me out.”

“Why Emerson?” Nguyen all but growled the question at me.

“Because he’s a primordial, and if I’m right about what’s happening with Megan, we’re going to need that kind of strength on our side.”

He rolled his neck before sinking down and settling back in his chair. It was a deceptive move. He wasn’t relaxed in the slightest, but he wanted to give me that impression. Or maybe it was Shay he was thinking of, given the way his gaze darted her way for a beat before he spoke. “What do you think is happening with the witch?”

I shifted my attention to Shay. “Are you willing to hear me out?”

She gave me a quick nod, the tail of her blonde ponytail swishing with the move. “I’ll listen, but I’m not promising more than that.”

Fine by me.

“Dennis?”

His gaze rested on Shay, and he lowered himself back to the couch, only this time he took the cushion right next to her. “Let’s hear it.”

“I showed Emerson the footage from the campground earlier this morning. He agrees that she’s gotten her hands on some powerful dark magic.”

Nguyen lifted his chin. “You already met with him.”

“Yes, and he knows I need to talk to my team before things go any further. Because the problem isn’t just the amount of power she’s amassing. Her humanity is slipping in the process.”

I filled them in on how I thought Megan was trying to reach out to the veil.

Dennis shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t possible for a witch to touch the veil and live. Didn’t all the ones who tried die?”

“No one really knows what happened to most of them,” I said.

“Most?” Shay asked, perking up.

“There’s been at least one who succeeded in not just touching the veil, but in actually passing through it into the Alius.” It grated sharing even that much information, but they needed to know the truth. So, I sucked it up and pushed on. “What I’m about to tell you is classified at the highest level.” I glanced across the dimly lit bar, taking in the murmur of a dozen conversations happening around us. “Which means it stays between us.” I motioned between the four of us. “No one else can know, inside the organization or out of it.”

“If it’s that serious, why are we meeting here?” Shay asked, spinning her glass of cranberry juice slowly on the table beside her.

I’d weighed the logic of having this conversation here, but the bar was the best choice for a couple of reasons. One, I wasn’t ready to bring Emerson into Lexa and expose the location of our headquarters to any of the Brethren. Two, a clandestine meeting under a bridge or in an abandoned warehouse left me with too many variables. And three, the bar was safe ground.

“This building is warded against eavesdropping,” I said.

Shay stopped rotating her glass. “You can do that?”

When you owned the place, yeah. You just had to know someone with the kind of magic that could manipulate sound and be willing to pay to have those wards recharged on the regular.

“Give it a shot.” I tipped my head toward the table closest to us, where three men dressed in dusty work clothes and battered boots were winding down after a long day. “Tell me what you hear.”

“People talking.” She looked unconvinced.

“What are they saying specifically? Are they talking about their plans for the weekend? Complaining about their boss? Swapping dirty jokes?”

She focused her attention for a few seconds before her brow scrunched. “I can’t tell. It’s all… muffled.”

“That’s all anyone will hear if they’re trying to listen in on a private conversation within these walls.”

“That’s kind of cool,” Dennis said, scanning the crowd.

Nguyen and Shay, on the other hand, kept their eyes on me. His were hard and impatient. Hers were calculating.

“Does the Brethren know about this mythical witch who supposedly crossed through the veil?” Nguyen asked, bringing us back on topic .

“Emerson is aware of the basics, and he’s agreed to keep this knowledge to himself.”

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Shay asked. The question was barely a whisper in the busy bar, but excitement rippled through the aura of magic surrounding her. “You’re the witch?”

Nguyen’s jaw clenched so tight a muscle in it twitched. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“It was a long time ago.” The urge to pace was surprisingly strong, so I did the opposite. I took the seat next to Shay’s end of the couch and waited for questions.

“How long?” Nguyen asked.

“One hundred and twenty-seven years, give or take.” I took another drink of my whiskey. The taste barely registered, but the warmth as it slid down my throat was still soothing.

His head ticked to the side and one of his eyes twitched minutely, reminding me of a glitching robot. Then he muttered a colorful curse.

Dennis pulled himself to the edge of the cushion. “I’m pretty sure time travel isn’t a real thing.”

“No time travel involved.”

“How is that even possible?” Nguyen asked.

“I learned to heal myself while I was in the Alius. I’m pretty sure the same ability is what slows the aging process for me here.”

Shay got up from the couch and perched on the arm of my chair. She studied me like I was a museum exhibit that had just started talking. “So, you’re literally super old?”

I pinched my lips together to hide the smile that tried to bloom. The girl had accused me of being old more times than I could count. Now she knew.

“One hundred and fifty-eight, to be exact.”

She gawked at me, complete with wide eyes and a slack jaw. It was adorable, but her reaction was overshadowed by the energy pulsing from across the table.