The Returned (18 page)

About four centuries later, it booted up. The swirling numbers and symbols formed into a virtual door in the middle of the room.

“Awesome,” she said and walked to stand in front of the door. Now, this was what hacking was supposed to be. The fact she was using magic, for lack of a better word, to crack into technology struck her as more than a little cool.

She examined the door and saw a keypad in the center of it. Navigating a computer system wasn't dissimilar from navigating a building. Certain keys would unlock certain doors, which would give you access to other doors, and so on. The computer code was looking for a particular key, which she didn't have. However, unlike mundane hackers, she could see the information behind the code. Reaching out, she wove together an equation that would tell the system she was God. Not literally, of course, just in terms of her access. Numbers flipped by on the number pad, and the door opened. She knew that it was normal for a system to log activity, but part of her access key equation also flipped the switch in the program that told the system it had already been notified of the Almighty logging in, so there was no need to do it again.

“It's all just switches,” she said as the door opened.

The virtual image of the door slid to her, and the information shifted as it formed into a virtual office. Unlike the real office she stood in, its walls were nothing but bookshelves. She didn't bother opening any files directly. Instead she looked for specific patterns of information that fit what she was looking for: anything associated with the Legion. This limited her search exponentially. Turns out there was very little stored on this local machine, which was about what she expected. She drew up another door in the middle of the office to access the computer network and stepped through.

She flew down virtual highways of data streams. The massive artery had countless exits that led to cities and neighborhoods of varying size. Ignoring the smaller ones, she followed the dataflow to its source, and she found herself in the center of a city. All of its buildings had an ancient Greek feel to them, and it took her a second to realize why it looked so familiar.

“Themyscira,” she said, smiling broadly.

Geek would be so proud that she made the center data hub appear virtually as Wonder Woman's home. The upside, of course, was she knew where the temples were, which was probably where the most sensitive data was stored. The city around her dropped below the floor as she “flew” to the top level of the tallest building.

She stepped through the pillars and under the massive rotunda. Apparently unable to make a comic book visual representation here, there were only clusters of data—quantum equations—floating in the air. And there were a lot of them, like stars-in-the-night-sky lot of them.

The charm was now almost uncomfortably hot against her skin. She was running short on time, and there was no way she could search through all this data fast enough, even using pattern recognition.

“I'm such an idiot,” she said when the solution came to her.

She didn't need to search through everything; she just needed to see whatever One had been accessing. After getting his military service number, she used it to cross-reference the access logs to find the relevant files. This resulted in 347 clusters.

“That's more like it,” she said as she scanned over them.

She refined the list further by eliminating anything One had accessed more than two years ago. That might exclude something useful, but she had to start somewhere.

Down to 217 results.

The charm was now getting uncomfortable.

“No time to read through them,” she said and started copying the data.

Storage would've been an issue for a mundane hacker in her position, since she didn't have any flash drives or the like to copy it to. Luckily, she wasn't mundane. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of her battered composition books and wove a copy of the quantum data into the structure of the book itself. Once the files were copied, she adjusted them to remove any sign that they'd been copied or even accessed. If this had been a quantum computer, that would've been nearly impossible, but since it was nothing but a series of switches, represented digitally, all she had to do was rewrite the data to remove the flags, or flip the right switches.

“Ow!” she said, louder than she would've liked, as the charm burned her skin. She stowed the composition book, pulled the charm away from her skin, and held it there as she disconnected from the network. The virtual temple dissolved back into the office where she'd started, which itself dissolved back into the meandering numbers and symbols as she logged off the computer.

After securing her bag shut, she bolted through the door and out into the hallway. Barely slowing enough to remove the formula that connected the break room door with the office door, she made for the stairs. By the time she hit the crash bar on the front door to the building and leapt down the few stairs, the charm was so hot it was scorching the cord it hung from.

She sprinted through the trees, across the parking lot, and back to the main road that led to the base entrance, pulling down the equations she'd slapped on the cameras as she went. It might've been faster to head for the base's perimeter directly, but she couldn't risk it. Better the way she knew for certain led out.

Her lungs and legs burned as she ran down the road, careful to keep on the shoulder in case any cars came by. Her pace slowed a little when the burning turned to a sharp pain in her side, feeling like nothing less than a long knife being pushed into her ribs.

But she kept moving. Thankfully, she could see the gate and the ward just ahead.

That's when the cord that held the charm snapped. She caught the scorching metal amulet and gritted her teeth as it burned her hand. It took every ounce of focus and willpower she could manage to keep her cloaking equation up and not scream in pain or drop the charm.

Then she was passing through the ward, not even noticing the clinging, cobweb-like feel of it. Once clear, she threw the charm into the grass and slowed to a walk, gasping for air.

When she glanced back, the soldiers on sentry duty were looking around. They must have been able to hear her. Between her desperate gasps for air and her pounding heart, it was no wonder. Luckily, she was still invisible, so she kept walking until she was out of sight of the gate. Then, and only then, did she let the cloaking equation drop, and she fell to her knees. The sodium lights that ran up the middle of the road leading to the gate didn't give her much light where she was, but it was enough to see the brand-like burn on her right hand. The pain was excruciating, and it was already blistering. It would heal though, even if it did leave a scar, and she'd gotten what she came for.

Hopefully.

Getting to her feet, she found a spot hidden in shadow and stepped through the universal junction point. She emerged in front of Brigid's house. Before she could climb up the first step to the large wooden doors, she sensed someone step out of the shadows.

“Stop,” said a familiar voice.

“Hey ya, Maeve,” Wraith said and turned around slowly, her hands open and in view. “Sneaking back in after curfew?”

“Wraith?” the marshal asked, her keen lavender eyes moving over Wraith. “No, I'm just—” Her eyes stopped on Wraith's face—where the bruises were no doubt coming to beautiful life—and then went to her burnt hand. “What the hell happened to you?”

“You know,” Wraith said and shrugged. “The usual.” She pointed at her face. “Run-in with a couple of purse snatchers who just happened to be in the alley I stepped into.” She held out her burnt hand, which hurt like twelve hells. “And then a little breaking and entering, followed by some espionage on a military base.”

“You need some new hobbies,” Maeve said and led her inside.

“T
his is going to sting,” Brigid said as she held Wraith's burnt hand and prepared to clean it.

“That'll be a nice cha—Ah!”

“I warned you.”

“Thanks?” Wraith said through gritted teeth.

“Tell me what happened,” Brigid said and drew out some small jars of ointment.

“Oh my,” Wraith said as a near-orgasmic—she presumed—sensation washed over her when the ointment was applied. Actually, that wasn't true. It was just that the pain ceased, and the flood of endorphins she'd been pumping out didn't have anything to do but make her happy.

Brigid smiled. “Better?” She cleaned her fingers, then drew out a flesh-colored ball of putty-like material and began rolling it in her hands.

“Oh so much,” Wraith sighed.

She told Brigid everything she knew as the fae bandage, known as
dóú craiceann
, or second skin, was applied. The only details Wraith left out were the more personal aspects of the slingers and fifties she'd met.

“I'm sorry we got you involved,” Brigid said. “We should've found—”

“I was involved already,” Wraith said and flexed her bandaged hand. It felt tight, but it didn't hurt.

“Even so,” Brigid said, “I should've asked Dante to reach out to the First House and ask them to watch over Edward and Caitlin.”

“Then I probably wouldn't know what they'd done to me,” Wraith said. “Speaking of which, I have some reading to do. Care to join me?”

“I don't suppose my chastising you for breaking into a military base—”

“Not even a little,” Wraith said. “I realize my methods aren't always the best, but this is some important information.”

Brigid nodded. “Let's see what you've got.”

Wraith pulled out the composition book. “It's all right here. Can I use your computer? It'd make it a lot easier.”

Brigid arched an eyebrow and glanced at the notebook. “I do, but my notebook drive is broken.”

“I'm the drive,” Wraith said. “I just needed somewhere to store the quantum information. The paper's pions were easy enough to manipulate and rearrange to match the data, and if it got materially . . . mutated, I guess, it was no big loss.”

“Are you saying you turned a notebook into a quantum flash drive?”

“Well, sure, you could say it like that, I suppose,” Wraith said.

“You never cease to amaze,” Brigid said and stood. “Come on.”

Wraith followed the magister through the halls of her home, which were designed to rearrange themselves—a defense from the days the house was an Irish convent. As they walked, she remembered her first visit, waking up in a palatial room and being struck by the silence. It wasn't so quiet anymore, not since Brigid had started taking in slingers and fifties. There must have been almost forty kids here now. Even as good as she was at keeping them in line, that many kids tended to make noise. Which made the silence of early morning and late night even more striking.

Brigid opened the door to her office and motioned Wraith inside.

Wraith waited as Brigid booted up and logged in to her machine.

“Oh shit twiddles!” Wraith said and smacked her forehead.

“What?”

“I left his freaking computer on,” Wraith said. “I was in such a hurry to get out of there I forgot to power it off. Stupid.”

“It's a small thing,” Brigid said. “Maybe they won't notice.”

“I'm not that lucky,” Wraith said. “But I can't do anything about it now. Let's just hope what I got was worth it.”

She sat down at the computer and set her comp book next to it. Like in One's office, Wraith ignored the keyboard and worked instead with the raw data. It turned out even on the quantum level, file format was an issue. Whatever program they used to write up the documents wasn't one Brigid's computer readily understood, so Wraith had to parse through one until she figured out the basis for it, then she created an emulator. Once it was done, she disconnected the computer from the Internet, just in case there was a trace-back program embedded in the code that she hadn't seen. When that was done, she began converting the quantum data in the comp book to digital data on the computer's hard drive.

“I had no idea you were so good at computers,” Brigid said as she looked over Wraith's shoulder.

“I'm not, actually,” Wraith said.

“All evidence to the contrary.”

“It's just data,” Wraith said. “I just—oh, it's done.” She began looking through the coding. She didn't see anything in the files that was in addition to the core data, meaning it probably wouldn't phone home. To be safe though, she made the computer think it was online again. Nothing happened, and Wraith felt secure enough to reconnect to the network. “Okay, let's see what we have.”

What they had was a massive collection of mission briefings, personnel records, and post-action reports. Together they made good time going through the documents. After a while it was easy to tell if something was going to reveal anything relevant, at least to the immediate situation, and if not, it was binned for review later. Even so, it was still an hour past dawn when they finished.

“Holy shit monsters of Mars,” Wraith said as she rubbed her eyes. It was both better and worse than she'd hoped. “I can't believe what they're doing to us.”

“I need to get this information to Dante and Faolan,” Brigid said. “This will need to be brought to the Cruinnigh for review.”

“I'm going to need to get back in there at some point,” Wraith said. “Sooner rather than later.”

“It's too risky,” Brigid said.

“You saw those reports,” Wraith said. “You saw what they've been doing. And they've got my fucking DNA coded! Of every slinger and fifty they ever held! What's to say these bastards won't use that to come after us?”

Brigid shook her head. “DNA doesn't work like that for magic. Blood and such does. I'll happily explain why sometime when I'm not so tired.”

Wraith let out a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, I trust you. I just don't like them having a database on us.” She thought about it. “I could get back in and corrupt the data. I wonder if I could make a quantum virus.” She looked up at Brigid. “Sorry, shiny rock distracted me. I'll worry about that after we deal with the mess at hand.”

Brigid glanced at the clock. “I need to get in touch with Dante, and you need some rest. You can use my—”

“I have to get back to New Orleans,” Wraith said and stood. “Things just got way more complicated, and I need to let Caitlin and Edward know.”

Brigid looked at her like she wanted to object, but they both knew Wraith was right. “I'm going to see if I can get you some help at least.”

Wraith shook her head. “I don't want you stepping on any toes,” she said. “I've met some First Housers, and they've been cool to me—”

“It won't be Rogue Court help.”

C
aitlin woke to find herself wrapped in Edward's arms, his warm body against her back. Outside the sun was just coming up, casting a blue light over everything. She closed her eyes and snuggled back against him, allowing herself a few more blissful moments of indulgence. This was how a honeymoon was supposed to be. Not full of zombies, shadowy government agents, and crime scenes. All she'd ever wanted was a normal life, but she wasn't sure what that even was anymore. But it wasn't like anything could be done about it. Her husband was a self-taught wizard, and they lived in a magic house that was literally bigger on the inside and covered in wards. But it wasn't just Edward. She'd started down the path away from “normal” when she'd been seduced by James, a man she'd thought was just a charming Irish musician. In fact he'd been Fergus, the fae king of the Dusk Court, and Fiona was the result. But Caitlin would do it again, even knowing what she knew now. How could she not? Doing otherwise would mean Fiona would never be, and that beautiful child was worth it all, and then some.

This was just her life now, and it would probably be Fiona's too. Which meant it would be normal to her. Caitlin chuckled a little at that thought.

“O brave new world, that has such people in it,” she whispered.

“Quoting Shakespeare first thing in the morning?” Edward said and wrapped his arms tighter around her as he kissed along her bare neck and shoulder. “Are you trying to get me going?”

She laughed and turned over, never leaving his arms. “You're such a geek, but I love it.”

He kissed her.

“I haven't brushed my—” Her words melted into a sigh as his hands caressed over her naked body and she felt him press against her. “Good morning to you too.”

His legs entwined with hers as he kissed down her neck and kept going.

“We should really get going,” she said through more sighs. “We have to—”

“The world can wait for a little while,” he whispered. “Right now, all I have to do is make love to my beautiful wife.”

She tried to think of something to say in reply, but her mind was a little distracted at the moment.

A
lmost two hours later, Caitlin and Edward left the room to get breakfast. A quick check-in with Mallory, Daniel, and Fiona had reassured them that all was well, and as they rode the elevator down, Caitlin stepped closer to Edward and kissed him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked.

She smiled and took his hand in hers. “For making sure, even with all the rest, that we still had a romantic honeymoon.”

“You were right when you said we should be helping.” He shrugged. “But it's not fair for you to miss out on this. You deserve it.”

“We both do,” she said and squeezed his hand.

He smiled as the doors opened and they walked out, headed to the hotel restaurant. They were seated and immediately asked for coffee. Soon after, they'd ordered their breakfast and were enjoying their coffee. Caitlin reminded herself to pick some up to bring home before they left.

“That reminds me,” she said. “Don't let me forget to pick up some gifts for Fiona. I think some beads, and maybe a mask, and definitely a stuffed alligator.”

Edward nodded. “I'll remind you, even though you won't need me to. Hopefully after today we'll be able to get back to our normal life.” His smile faded. “Such as it is.”

“Here you are,” the waiter said and set their plates down. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Thank you, I think we're good,” Edward said, then looked at Caitlin.

She nodded and once the waiter was gone said, “I love my life. No, it's not what other people would call normal, but I have Fiona and you. The rest of it is just—” She almost dropped her coffee.

“What?” he asked and looked around. When he saw One walking toward them, he started to stand.

“Not here,” she said.

“I hope I'm not intruding,” One said as he stepped up to their table.

“You are,” Caitlin said.

“Then I'll be brief,” One said, taking one of the empty seats.

Caitlin didn't say anything, but she could feel that familiar buzz over her skin as Edward drew in his magic and readied a spell.

“You won't need a ward, Doctor,” One said. “I'm here as a courtesy.”

Caitlin and Edward exchanged a look, and she knew they were thinking the same thing: Tell that to the staff at the coroner's office.

Edward held the spell ready.

“I'll be frank,” One said. “I could very well bring you both in for interfering with an investigation.”

“But you won't,” Caitlin said.

“I won't,” One said. “I know why you're doing what you're doing. But you don't know why we're doing what we're doing.”

“Let me guess,” Edward said. “Defending American citizens and their interests?”

One nodded. “A vast oversimplification but not wrong. Part of that though is letting people live their lives in blissful ignorance. You know why we can't let the truth out.” He nodded to Edward. “It's the same reason you aren't broadcasting the fact you're a wizard.”

“With him,” Caitlin said, “it's because it's no one's business but his own. He's a private citizen. You're representing the US government.”

“Or so you say,” Edward said.

“What do you think would happen if the average person discovered that magic was real,” One asked, leaning in close and lowering his voice, “and that only a select few could use it?” He shook his head. “People would be terrified, and you know bad things happen when people are scared. Add to that all the supernatural creatures out there that most people can't even see—”

“They're not creatures,” Edward said. “They're people.”

“With remarkable talents and abilities,” One said. “But I'm not only referring to your friends in the Rogue Court.”

Caitlin felt a shiver. How much did they know about the fae?

“I've seen the face of darkness and evil,” Caitlin said, then nodded at Edward. “We both have. Don't insult us with fearmongering.”

One nodded. “I believe you have. Look, we're not looking to intern every person with magical talent.” He looked back to Edward. “Evidenced by the fact that you, a wizard of no small talent, are sitting here talking to me.”

“What are you trying to do, then?” Caitlin asked.

“To find those who mean to harm citizens of the United States,” One said, “and then incarcerate them for the protection of the populace at large.”

“And to hell with their rights?” Caitlin asked. “And don't tell me about secret courts and warrants—”

“How exactly would you presume we present evidence against someone using magic to raise people from the dead in a civilian court?” One asked. “No prosecutor in their right mind would take that case. At best they'd be laughed out of the courtroom, at worst they'd be disbarred and locked up as a lunatic.” He looked from one of them to the other and back. “These are extraordinary circumstances. Even if we did release the truth to the public, and making the huge assumption they didn't lose their minds, how long do you think it would be before the laws caught up?”