Demon Accords 10: Rogues (26 page)

“A smartphone can’t kill with a thought,” Hollis said.  “And we generally keep track of dangerous individuals.”

“And you and your agency keep track of me.  What was it? Some kind of list?  You even have a special list for me.  Now, if our soul searching can be put on hold for a moment, maybe we can get on with capturing or stopping
these
dangerous individuals that
have
committed crimes and clearly demonstrated a willingness to harm the general public,” Declan said.

Buck had kept quiet, watching the byplay and wondering about Hollis’s judgment.   It should have been blatantly obvious that this young man and young woman were a pair.  An incredibly dangerous and effective pair that instantly came to each other’s defense.  And Hollis was poking them while standing in the middle of a combat zone that only they were uniquely qualified to handle, but didn’t have to.

“Personally, I want to go on record as saying I’m super glad you’re on our side,” Devany said.  “Other people might not be grateful but I am.”

Buck looked at his younger deputy in astonishment.

“Nicely said, Dev,” Deputy Hampton agreed.

Hollis grimaced.  “That’s not what I meant.  Of course I’m grateful. I just got wondering how bad this would be if it was
you
instead of her?”

“Well, we can all be motivated to do horrible things.  Me, I’m pretty easygoing, but threaten my family or friends and I’d make this witch look like a Brownie selling Girl Scout cookies.  Wouldn’t you do the same if someone threatened your wife and kids?” Declan asked, pointing at Hollis’s wedding ring.

“Which is probably why they put that alert thing on your file,” Devany said, surprising Buck yet again.  “Keep away from this dude and for God’s sake, don’t threaten his family and girlfriend.”

“Can we get on with this?” Stacia asked, shifting impatiently.

Hollis was silent for a moment, then he nodded.  “Yeah, right.  Not the place for philosophical discussions.  What’s your plan?”

“First let me see if they sent in more salt with the medics.  I’ll be right back,” Declan said, moving across the floor toward a couple of agents with med bags.

He had no sooner started across the floor when Stacia whipped around, grabbed Hollis by his assault vest, and lifted him six inches off the ground.  Then she and the much larger man were suddenly around the side of the nearest machine, out of Declan’s view, him pinned to the metal, her staring into his newly fearful eyes. 

Buck, Cochran, Hampton, and Devany instantly followed, all alarmed by the sudden violence.

“You fucking stupid asshole,” she started in a tight, quiet voice.  “That vial he gave your man was never meant for anyone but him.  Do you have any idea what it was?  It was distilled from the blood of the only natural-born vampire on earth.  It was given to him as an emergency measure because he has a habit of jumping straight into danger to protect innocent people, but he’s not Superman.  He’s breakable.  But what does he do with it?  He gives it your guy so he might be able to have an arm again.  It was the only vial he had.  And you know absolutely nothing about him.  If he dies here, the possible shockwaves could effect everyone, everywhere.  There are multiple reasons he is on your radar. You barely know any of them. The people who labeled him don’t know half of them. You question whether he should live with the power he has, but you have no idea what could happen if he dies. Now you’ve questioned his honor and his willingness to sacrifice.  After he saved everyone here.  Congratulations; you just primed him to take more risks.  If you survive this and he doesn’t, then you probably won’t make it more than a day.  That’s not a threat from me, by the way. I won’t have to kill you.  You’ll probably be dead before the line forms to kill you. You guys should just shut the fuck up and listen to everything he says and do what he says, and possibly everyone lives to go home,” she hissed, then dropped Hollis like a sack of corn and strode past the others, headed for her witch.

Hollis stood up slowly, the sudden fear still in his eyes.  “What’s she talking about?”

“I don’t know.  Way above my pay grade,” Cochran said.  “But there’s a reason General Creek took over the operation remotely as soon as those two entered the building.”

“Oh, I think it goes higher than the general,” Buck said.  “I was watching in the command post and I could hear the general’s feed. 
He
was briefing someone else and he called that man
Sir.”

“I got hung up wondering what that kid could do if he decided he wanted something.  No one could stop him,” Hollis said defensively.

“He does want something,” Devany said.  “It’s incredibly obvious.”

Hollis frowned, so Buck took the liberty of answering.  “He wants
her.
  He’s here because of her.  She’s the only reason you have that kid as a resource.”

“So what happens if she turns him down?” Cochran asked.  “If she breaks his heart?”

“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen,” Devany laughed.  “You think a girl has the kind of reaction that she just had with you over someone she’s going to kick to the curb?”

“Devany is, shockingly enough, right.  Don’t they teach you guys anything about reading people and body language?” Buck said, turning and heading over to where Stacia and the kid were now talking.  Declan was watching them curiously but didn’t seem to have any idea of what had just gone down, which Buck thought was probably for the best.  Thankfully, it was the girl who had the super hearing.  Although, Buck reflected, that kid wasn’t going to get away with anything with a girl who had those kinds of senses.

“Ah, Declan, I was outta line back there.  You pulled our bacon out of the pan, and I am grateful.  I just wonder about stuff,” Hollis said awkwardly.

Declan frowned, looking from Hollis to Stacia, who was checking over her shotgun.  The kid’s eyes lingered on her for a minute, but it could have just been the clingy Spandex she was wearing the hell out of, Buck thought.

“That’s cool.  At least you know I’m no Chuck Norris,” Declan said.

Stacia’s head jerked up, a look of worry on her face.

“When Chuck Norris turned eighteen, it was his parents that moved out,” Devany said almost instantly.

Declan’s right eyebrow went up and Stacia’s expression turned to horror.

“There used to be a street named for Chuck Norris, but they changed it… nobody crosses Chuck Norris and lives,” Declan said.

Stacia groaned in disgust, but Devany and Declan ignored her, each focusing on the other.

“Death had a near Chuck Norris experience,” Devany said.

“Chuck’s been dead for twenty years.  Death’s too afraid to tell him,” Declan said.

“You idiots are unbelievable,” Stacia muttered.

“Chuck Norris can start a fire with a magnifying glass—at night,” Devany answered.

“They once made Chuck Norris toilet paper, but there was a problem,” Cochran suddenly interjected.  “It wouldn’t take shit from anyone.”

“Nice,” Declan said, grinning, and as if by some silent, common agreement, everyone moved over to the blueprints, leaving Stacia swearing under her breath.

“Okay, as I said, things are going to get tougher.  She’s an Air witch and possibly Fire,” Declan said.

“Fire?” Stacia asked as she came over.

“There was a serious anti-burn ward on that giant jelly-skinned Jason motherfucker,” Declan said.  “And it held against Draco’s fire so yeah, I think she has some affinity for fire.”

“Draco?” Devany asked.

“The dragon,” Hollis said, pointing up.

“Seriously?  You named it after Draco Malfoy in Harry Potter?” Devany asked.

“I was freaking eight years old and I wasn’t going to name it freaking Ron, now was I?” Declan said, glaring at Devany.

“Just saying,” Devany said, not at all worried about the deadly witch boy, making Buck wonder about his young deputy.  “It even looks like a Hungarian Horntail.”

The kid shifted his feet.  “Again, eight years old and yes, I saw the movies.”

“What does that mean? The air and fire thing? For us?” Buck asked, trying to get them back on point.

“She will set traps that reflect her skills.  Windstorms, mini-tornadoes, firetraps, things like that.  She’s really only limited by her ability to imagine and implement, as well as power and time.  She’s had lots of time to prepare,” the young witch replied.

“How do we counter?” Hollis asked.

“Well, I
will wear one of the ward keys.  As I enter each trap or ward, I’ll disarm each,” Declan replied.

“Sounds easy.  Too easy,” Buck said.

“It is.  At some point, she’ll have cancelled the key.  My hope is that it gets us most of the way through her defenses,” Declan said.  “The rest I’ll have to handle on the fly.  But if I’m tied up with a tricky trap, I’ll be vulnerable.”

“Which is why
I’ll
be with you, with the other key,” Stacia said, her eyes hard.

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to Hollis and Cochran, his body suddenly less tense.  Stacia’s face flickered with some emotion at the young man’s instant acceptance and visible relief.  It was too quick for Buck to analyze but the obvious trust he had in her had an impact on her.

“You, your men, and the deputies need to be ready for attacks from the surviving weres.  It looks like this section was originally full of a lot of smaller machines.  If they’re still there, it’ll give the advantage to the werewolves.  Stacia, can you tell them what to expect?” Declan asked.  She nodded, then waited while Hollis gathered the remaining agents, a couple of which she noted were female.

“New weres can’t take the combat form that you’ve seen me use today.  That usually takes lots of time to master.  The alpha, on the other hand, may be able to do so.  But in regular wolf mode, they’ll each be the size of a black bear. But bears don’t hunt in a pack.  A well-coordinated, sophisticated pack. And weres aren’t constructed the same as regular canines.  Our paws and forelegs have more striking and swatting ability, like a cross between a big cat and a wolf.  So they can rake you from atop a machine, rip into you from any opening, or simply bite your head off with one chomp.  You guys all wearing the new silver-lined body armor?” she asked.

Hollis jerked, surprised, then nodded.

She grinned.  “You keep tabs on us… we keep tabs on you.  Anyway, keep the collars up and keep the vests closed.  A werewolf is a super apex predator, and if we see the smallest opening, we’ll take it on reflex.  You all seem to be packing either 7.62 caliber or 12 gauges. Good choices. Personally, I have silver slugs loaded for precision, but at these ranges, buckshot won’t have time to spread.  You have thermal sights and night vision?”

“Yes to both,” Hollis said.

“I’d skip the night vision and don’t get reliant on the thermal sights.  If she has any ability with Fire, she’ll blind both of them or play tricks on them,” Declan said.

“Fire, sir?” one of the female agents asked.  “How do we fight that?”

“Agent Tillson, your coveralls are Nomex, which is also woven into your vest, gloves, and boots.  You all will wear your Nomex balaclavas as well,” Hollis ordered.

“Good,” Declan agreed.  “If it was me in her place, I’d make it hot as balls during the approach so that you all would unzip vests or take off protective gear.  Don’t do it.”

“How hot can she make it?” another agent asked.

“Well, that’s the good part.  Whenever I feel heat, I’ll absorb it and add it to my reserves.  Then I can use it against her later,” Declan said with a grin.

“Is that how witches normally do it?  Sir?” another asked.

“No.  But that’s how
he
does it.  This witch stuff is effing scary.  And I live and work among them.  But you should know that the scariest witch is on our side. 
He
won’t tell you that, so I will.  Try not to get freaked out at whatever happens.  He’ll handle it,” Stacia said.

“However, in the interest of equipping you each as best as possible, I want everybody to carry a bag of salt.  Salt disrupts magic.  Pouring an uninterrupted circle of it on the ground around you will do wonders for protecting you from many spells.  You also all have a limited-use amulet.  I’ve reinforced them as much as possible, but I need to be the one to take the brunt of any magical attacks.  Your amulets won’t hold up.  If your weapons don’t work on something, sometimes a handful of salt will.  Not always, but often,” Declan said.

“Not always?” an agent asked.

“Better than nothing, Crowe.  Better than we had coming in here, right?” Hollis asked.  The entire mixed team nodded.

“So, Stacia and I will be a team, watching each other’s backs.  All of you need to have a partner to watch your backs.  Weres move several times faster than humans and love to attack from ambush.  You need to watch each other’s sixes at all times,” Declan said.

“We actually train that way. Three hundred, sixty degrees of security coverage. They’re trained for rapid movement to contact in buddy pairs,” Cochran said.

“I’m going to guess that Air is her primary element.  That means attacks that either pull the breath from your lungs or shoves a hard wind in your face so fast, you can’t draw air.  If you see someone who is choking, turning blue, can’t breathe… throw some salt on them—at them.  Might break the spell.  Might not.  But nothing else you do will make a difference except maybe to sacrifice your own amulet, putting it with theirs,” Declan said, sorta thinking out loud.

Stacia thought he’d been doing well, but the last bit had rocked their world a bit.

“Listen,
he’ll
take care of the magic stuff.  We take care of the weres.  We also have air support,” she said, pointing up.  Everyone looked up to see Draco perched and staring into the darkness.  Some of the new ones hadn’t seen the dragon yet.  Others had somehow forgotten it up among the rafters.

“That reminds me,” Declan said, looking around the floor of the factory.  He spotted a two-foot length of two-by-four and picked it up.  Unlimbering his tomahawk, he swung back to chop into the wood.  Stacia plucked the board from his hand and proceeded to snap it into two one-foot pieces and then broke those into six-inch sections.  She did it like it was a pencil.

“Showoff,” Declan said, before looking up and whistling.  Draco looked down, then dropped off the I-beam he’d latched onto.  With a graceful swoop and three big backwings of air, he landed in front of Declan, who proceeded to toss chunks of wood to him.  His toothy jaws crushed the wood to splinters, which he then somehow choked down.

“He eats trees?” Devany asked.

“Refueling his fire supply.  He converts organic material to gas and then ignites it,” Declan answered.

“Sounds like you, Devany,” Deputy Hampton said, “Converting anything organic to gas.”

An obvious shot, but it still caused a ripple of tension-relieving laughs among the group.

“Okay, he’s full up,” Declan said when the little dragon spit out his most recent mouthful and stared expectantly at his young boss.

“Watch and guard, please.  Light up any threats,” Declan said with a wave of one hand.  The dog-sized dragon unfurled his seven-foot wings and snapped them hard while leaping straight up off the ground.

“Motherfucker,” one of the agents said in awe. 

“That’s some shit alright,” another agreed.

“Let’s go,” Hollis said, and everyone rechecked weapons and armor for the last time as the two-person teams spread out.  The little robot lights trundled like awkward spiders over the concrete floor, lighting the path ahead.

The open floor narrowed to a mini forest of smaller rolling and sorting machines, creating a post-apocalypse industrial jungle look. The lights from the bots, the agents’ headlamps, and weapon lights all caused as many shadows as they dispelled, creating almost a strobe-like effect as they moved through the first of the smaller machines.

Stacia’s head snapped around, catching a sound from one direction and a smell from another simultaneously.  Declan, who was watching her, turned and exchanged a look and a nod with Hollis.

“Launch flares,” Hollis said.  Three agents pulled military aerial flares from their vests, yanked off the caps and fit them over the bottom, then slammed the caps with their free hands.  The little pin in the center of the inside of each cap connected with the shotgun primer at the bottom of the flare tube and with a loud crack, each fired a white, bright star into the ceiling rafters.  Tiny parachutes deployed, two of which got tangled in the metal rafters, leaving the artificial star under it to dangle like a chandelier.  The third fell to the floor and burned brightly, deep in the tangle of machines.

Stacia moved ahead, eyes, ears, and nose working overtime, shotgun in ready position, safety off, finger indexed alongside the trigger.  At her side, Declan touched each metal relic that they passed.

For twenty yards, there was nothing, just slow careful movement.  Then Declan held up one hand, turning in place, eyes closed. Reaching into his messenger bag, he pulled out a stump of densely wrapped gray plant matter, which he lit with a lighter-sized flame that popped up on his fingertip.  White smoke swirled up, then suddenly spun into a little dust-devil tornado as Declan spoke softly in some language that Buck didn’t understand.