A few weeks ago, I sort of took stock in where the Atlantis Unleashed Universe stood, and realized that most of the major heroes had either lost or given up their secret identities, if they ever had one in the first place. The Atlanta Knights lost theirs over time because the new administration declassified their identities after the Dragon War. The Greenboughs never really had one and neither did the Wrought. The Lords of Atlantis can't govern a nation with one, and neither Corey nor D'an'a could maintain one.
Hence, the name of this is a new series in the line of the now completed Behind the Mask series sort of plays on that theme. It picks up about six months after that one ended with the huge battle in Atlanta. Whereas BtM was told in third person, this story will be told by the characters themselves, in their own "voices" so to speak.
Scene 1
Wolf Creek Academy Walker County, Alabama
Trey Greenbough aka RUNECLAW
I thought Emory and I were going to be able to settle down and have some "us time" after that mess in Atlanta. The nocturnal elements of the city were in the good hands of Merrick Bishop. But no, that wasn't to be. The fact that a vampire killed JD's heir set off a mess that has kept him and me busy ever since. It seemed every werewolf with a set of danglies between his legs thought it would be a good idea to take a pound of flesh and a pint of blood out of the vampires in retaliation, no matter how many times JD told them to knock it off. He and I have spent the last several months busting heads and settling disputes.
Emory on the other hand was staying busy dealing with her duties as the Sovereign Mage. With the demise of the Directive, the mage gift was coming back and not everybody was nice or even competent with it. At one point she had to put down a whole pack of demons accidentally summoned by a very bad witch in Atlanta- and when I say bad witch, I don't mean she was evil, she was just bad at being a witch. She was incompetent.
For the last six months, we have been lucky to spend a week total time together. Most of our communications have been through emails, text messages, and notes left on the fridge. It just seemed whenever one of us would get some time at home, the other was off on some kind of mission. When I was gone the school was being run by Wanda. And that was a completely different Gordian Knot.
She wouldn't come out and say it, but it was pretty damn clear she blamed both me and JD, for JJ's death. And to be honest, I can't say I blame her. If I hadn't let JD talk me into letting JJ handle the situation, then the boy and his whole pack would still be alive. And no, I wouldn't have burnt down Atlanta to get to Todeshaus- probably. She was burying herself in her work to find some way of coping. I don't think she'd come to accept yet that JJ wasn't going to come walking through the patio doors at home joking with Wade and Lorne.
Hunter, JD's youngest was stepping up to try and fill JJ's shoes in the pack as a whole, and that was creating more problems. Hunter had always been the scholar of the family, more interested in studying the origins of lycanthropy than playing pack politics. His approach now seemed to be to deal with it out of irritation. Where JJ would talk out a conflict in the pack between parties, Hunter's approach was a rolled up newspaper upside the head to both of them and tell them to grow up and stop acting like pups. Oddly enough it was nearly as effective as JJ. But for the most part, he was far more interested in studying than fighting. He fought more out of annoyance than to keep the pack in line.
That of course had led to the current situation I was dealing with. Hunter was still just a sophomore at the school and sometimes issues arose for him to deal with at highly inappropriate times- like calculus class. As the Headmaster, I got to deal with discipline issues. Right now, Hunter and four other werewolves plus Lee Plainwalker were in my office after a brawl in the hall.
One was Jason Burton, a lanky brown haired boy with a strong jaw, and a bad case of acne. Jason of course was our newest werewolf. He hadn't grown up in the packs, and had only been a werewolf for about a year. His father evidently had an affair with a normal, and never thought to inform the woman that he was a werewolf. Since he'd been killed during JD's rise to power after the Vampire Wars of the Southeast nobody knew about the kid until he started growing fur and a tail last year.
The other three were Chris Thomas, Jack Grant and Mark McGillicutty. Chris was a short muscular senior furball player with black hair and brown eyes. His aquiline nose and tan skin tones spoke of more than just a little Cherokee in his bloodline. Jack Grant was actually one of the less likely pack members to end up in a fight. He was an easy going kind of guy who tended to let insults roll of his back. He was a tall, thin sophomore with a shock of sandy blond hair who was usually more interested in basketball than pack politics. Mark McGillicutty on the other hand was a flaming redheaded freshman with hazel eyes and freckles all over his face, arms and neck. Lee of course was a fourth grader with blond hair and blue eyes. How a nine year old kid got mixed up in a pack fight, I don't know, but I intended to find out. I looked at the kid standing there with the teenagers and shook my head. "How did you get mixed up in this, Lee?" I asked.
He looked up at me, and hiked his thumb toward Jason Burton and said, "This numbnuts called Wade a bad name."
"Numbnuts?" I asked. "You want to find a better word?"
He blushed and said, "Okay, idiot."
"Not much better, but at least it's a word you know the meaning to," I told him. "But that doesn't answer my question. How did you get involved?" I asked.
"I punched him in the nu... uh groin," he said making me wonder if he DID know the meaning of the word.
"You're a fourth grader, Lee. You shouldn't be picking fights with juniors," I told him. "What bad word did he call Wade?"
Lee looked me in the eye, and I could see the anger still reflected in his own as they shifted to golden. He set his jaw and said, "He called him a faggot. I don't like that word. I told him to take it back and he kicked me, trying to send me away. So I hit him."
I started to understand. Lee's uncles- his guardians- were a same-sex couple- a very prominent and famous same-sex couple. He wouldn't take kindly to that kind of word being used. The fact that Wade and JJ were a couple too, didn't help the situation. They'd gone into Atlanta to stop Todeshaus after he'd attacked Lee. They'd died trying to protect the kid. "How did you hit him?" I asked.
"With my fist," he said sheepishly.
"How was your fist?" I pressed.
"It was metal," he told me indicating that he'd shifted into his metallic cat form.
"I thought so," I replied.
Looking up to Jason I asked, "Why were speaking ill of the dead?"
"We were talking about how Hunter wasn't handling things as well as JJ," Jason said. "The little freak here decided to stick his whiskers into pack business."
"That doesn't answer my question, Jason," I told him. "Why were speaking ill of Wade?"
"What does it matter, Mr. G? He wasn't part of the pack. He was just hanger on, a crippled one at that."
I could see Lee ball up his little fists. He started to say something, but I held up a finger and wagged it, no. Turning back I said, "It matters because Wade was part of a pack and died fighting alongside his pack." I looked him dead in the eye and asked, "What have you accomplished? He put his life on the line to defend Lee. Of course the boy is going to be upset if you start bad-mouthing him, and kicking at him was just plain stupid." I looked at Lee and said, "Your punching him was smart either, Lee. I'm very disappointed in you. Report to Mr. Rattamaer for extra lessons this afternoon."
"Yes sir," the boy said obviously upset as he looked down.
"Now you head back to class," I told him.
"Yes sir," he repeated and left the office.
Looking at the other five I asked, "And how did this become a brawl in the hall?"
"When we heard Lee scream at Jason, Chris and I looked out the window of Mr. McKeever's class. Lee had racked Jason up good. He was puking in the hall, and his eyes were crossed from the pain," Jack Grant told me. Mark was shifting and about to attack him so we jumped in. Actually to be honest, we were far more worried about Mark and Jason than we were Lee."
"Hey!" Jason protested.
"It's true sir," Chris said. "Most people don't realize it, but Lee's claws are like sharp little knives and they hurt like he..., like the dickens. I think it's because they're metal. I'm sure Jason and Mark would have eventually healed, but you don't mess with an angry cat." I understood where Chris was coming from. He'd been a freshman during Leif Hunter's senior year.
"He's just a kid," Jason protested.
"Yeah, and you kicked him," Chris said.
"He asked for it!" Jason protested.
I looked at Hunter and asked, "And how did you get involved?"
The young man shrugged and said, "I saw Mr. Mac head out the door to try and break it up so I figured I'd better help. I waded in and started busting heads." Clear simple and no nonsense. Like I said, his approach to pack politics is to take a rolled up newspaper to the bunch.
"Well, all five of you will spend this Saturday helping Mr. Harris repair the walls and floor you damaged. Understood?" That was the real problem with the brawl in the hall: too much property damage to a brand new cinder block wall.
"Yes sir," four of them said in unison.
"I'm not coming to school Saturday!" Jason complained.
Hunter spun on him, his eyes flashing yellow. I could feel him unleash the true-breed wolf inside him. "Yes you are. You'll come and you'll help and you won't give anybody an lip about it. We're here because you seem to be too stupid to learn what it really means to be part of the pack and you're not going to bail because you're precious little ego gets bruised. You show up on time Saturday and ready to work, or I'll have every wolf in this school roll you. You understand?"
I watched Jason suddenly swallow hard. Hunter had just given him an up close and personal reminder of the sheer power a true-breed can exuded when they choose too. It was the kind of aura that sent normals and baselines screaming with the heebeejeebies trying to rationalize away what they'd just seen and felt. It was the raw power and force of a predator that was going to eat them and there was nothing they could do about it. He simply nodded.
"Say it," Hunter said lowly.
"I understand," Jason murmured.
"What do you understand?" Hunter demanded.
"I'll be here to work on Saturday," Jason replied the fear evident in his voice.
As quickly as he turned it on, he turned it off. Looking back over at me, he smiled and said, "I'm genuinely sorry about all the fuss, Commander Greenbough. We'll all be here and make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Thanks Hunter," I told him. "Now, with the exception of Hunter and Chris you're dismissed back to class."
The five boys all looked at each other and then three of them slunk out of my office with their proverbial tails between their legs. When I was sure the door was closed and they were out of earshot, I asked Chris, "I thought you were supposed to be keeping Jason out of trouble and helping him adapt to life in the pack."
The dark haired boy looked down at his shoes and said, "I'm trying sir. He just doesn't listen. Every time I try to explain the rules to him, he gets all defensive. All he can see is that he's strong like a wolf, not that he has to be responsible too. I thought that if he got cuffed around by someone else he might learn that he wasn't as strong as he thought. He'd been running off at the mouth about Wade and JJ for a while now. I didn't think that it would be Lee who'd finally take him down a peg."
I nodded. At least Chris was trying to deal with the issue. I wasn't going to fault him on his strategy. Hell, Mom and Dad had used the same kind of thing on me a couple of times when I was growing up. "At least I understand what happened a little better now boys. The problem is you've got to get him to understand that there are people out there who can and will kick his butt if he steps out of line."
"We understand," Hunter said.
I smiled and replied, "Good. Now get out of my office before this paperwork buds again and buries the whole school."
The boys smiled and left the room.
Scene 2:
Carlton, Florida
George Carstairs
The last six months have not been quite in the Carstairs home to say the least. First there was that mess with Corey and the Navy. He'd saved fifteen hundred sailors lives, D'an'a had been shot in the chest, and some jerkwad in the media had wanted to prosecute Corey for murder because of what he'd said to Mariner just before he fed him to his own sharks.
I understood what the boy was trying to do before he ever explained it to me. He was trying to put the assassin off his guard, trying to act tough and in control. He'd been shaking in his skin with fear, but he wasn't about to show it. Granted Mariner wasn't the first time Corey had taken a sentient life, and that is hard enough for a thirteen year old, and if the situation with UN flares up again, it may not be last. No thirteen year old should have to face that kind of situation, but Corey was holding up to it pretty well.
Luckily the US Navy came to Corey's defense. They pointed out that this was a maritime matter, that Corey was dealing with a terrorist, and that his actions had saved over a thousand American lives and billions of dollars in equipment. That pretty much shut up most of the press- except that Eurotrash bitch on one of the big networks, but nobody watched her anyway.
Corey of course had lost his spot on that talent show, but Captain Carter came to his rescue and pointed out that he'd lost it because of helping save American sailors. After enough outraged phone calls came in, he got to make a special performance that wasn't part of the competition and blew the audience away. Leighanne was now negotiating with one of the major record labels out of Nashville.
But not everything worked out in the end. The boy Corey had been seeing about four months ago had decided things were moving too fast. I can't say I blame him. Corey, like most teenage boys tended to wear his heart on his sleeve. They both were at that age where emotions were fast, powerful and deep. I'd have to say that Stefan was showing a great deal more maturity than Corey was. Still it hurt Corey when they broke up. He disappeared into his room with his keyboard for almost a month. Nobody can sulk like Corey.
But like I said, at that age, emotions are fast and powerful. Bonnie and Chris managed to drag him out to some kind of school activity- I think it was the 4H Chicken-Q and there he met another boy. This one's name is Logan Johnson and I've got a bad feeling about it. Don't get me wrong, the boy is nice enough and he and Corey get along rather well. But still something deep down in my gut tells me that this is going to come to a bad end. For one thing, he's not out to his parent's or more accurately to his mom. Corey said that Dad wasn't in the picture.
Secondly, he seems to be totally opposite to Corey's usual taste in boys. He's rail thin, with shock of sandy blond hair that looks like it needs a good trim and very blue eyes. He and Corey seem to genuinely like each other though and they at least share the same taste in music. But something makes me worry about the boy. Not that he's bad, or evil or anything. It just seems like such a mismatch. Leighanne thinks that maybe I'm worried about the fact that the boy is, to borrow an old saying, from the wrong side of the tracks.
Of course in other areas, things are going well, if still stressful. I can't believe I took this long to mention our new baby, Diana. She is just starting to turn over now and has everyone in the house wrapped around her finger- especially Corey and Chris. It doesn't matter what time of night she starts to cry, usually one of the boys beat either Leighanne or me to the nursery. They don't even complain about diaper duty- too much.
I suspect that maybe she inherited her mother's telepathic gifts, but I don't have any proof. She definitely seems to know how to let us know when she needs something, even if it's just holding. But to be honest, she's not a very demanding baby. My biggest concern is that she's going to grow up spoiled rotten.
Even D'an'a seems to be enchanted by her. The young avada will sit and simply hold Diana and coo along with her. She says she's practicing for when her own baby brother and sister get here in a few months, but I think there's some kind of rapport between the two of them. Both Jord'n and Miranda are very pregnant and are due to deliver sometime around April so I suspect that D'an'a will be returning home soon. The birth of a sibling is very important in Shan culture, and she's almost as excited about it as her parents. She's even asked Corey to come visit, saying that since he also carries K'horal's genes, that he needs to be there too.
As I was settling into my office, my private phone rang. Leaning back in my desk, I answered it saying, "This is George."
"Mr. Carstairs," and unfamiliar voice began. "I am Emerald Pruitt at Syntech Industries. I was wondering if you would be interested in construction job with us. Commander K'horal of the Shan said that you had the kind of expertise we are looking for."
Now that was a surprise. Although Carstairs Construction is far from small time, we're still not among the big boys, so when a major player like Syntech calls, it gets my attention. These are the people who produce some most durable high-tech metals in the world. "Ms. Pruitt, what can Carstairs Construction do for you?"
"We have a construction project that requires expertise in multiple atmospheric pressures and in a difficult working environment. I was told that you were very experienced in this kind of work. We are also looking for a company that can be discrete."
"We've done quite a bit of that kind of construction for Illia," I told her.
"Wonderful. I was wondering if we could set up a meeting about this?" she asked.
"Sure," was my reply. We got down to the business of setting up the meeting in Birmingham on Wednesday. This could turn into a very lucrative project for Carstairs Construction. I just didn't know how lucrative at the time.
Scene 3:
Department of Nocturnal Affairs Division Office Atlanta, Georgia
Wynn Greenbough aka MOONCLAW
This meeting was a while in coming. I was originally supposed to be heading up the Department of Nocturnal Affairs field office in New York. But someone put my name in for Deputy Director for Georgia. It was an appointment that required a Senate Confirmation so I spent three days being grilled by people who'd never been in the real world and had no idea what life outside of their little bubble was like. Most importantly, they had no idea what life in the nocturnal world was like.
To my great surprise, I was actually confirmed with a wide margin, even though my brother was on the President's short list of people he'd most like to have drawn and quartered. Oddly enough I think it was that connection to Trey that pushed the confirmation over the line. Most people recognized the name Greenbough as being honorable- even the bad guys. There was some grumbling over my answer to the question of to whom I consider my allegiances belonging: First to Freyja, then to the Constitution, and finally to the people. The first answer annoyed the Religious Right, the second answer annoyed the Far Left, but everyone understood the last one.
That of course set off firestorm on its own- after my confirmation. Some so-called journalist for a fish wrapper locally known as the Constipation started digging and did a hit piece on me. He got about half the facts wrong and the ones he did get right, he got out of context. According to him, I'm a very close relation to the Emperor of Atlantis and I am doing his bidding. The reality is that Adam Stryker is my second cousin- his mom is my grandmother's sister. I changed his diapers once or twice when he was little, and we reconnected a bit at his mom's funeral.
So instead of moving to New York, I moved back into my house in Atlanta. That house was a promise made to me by 'Hilde that she made sure was kept. What I had built in the alternate reality was carried over to this one- most of it at least. Trey still owned the homestead and Wildcat Mountain in Walker County. I just owned most of everything surrounding it. I had done quite well for myself.
But Atlanta was trouble and everyone knew it. That's why they wanted a magecat in the job. The fallout from Todeshaus' attack on the city had left a lot of people worrying. The sale of UV grow lights went through the roof as the fact that vampires and such really existed was driven home to the American public. The geas cast by the Council of Whispers was already weak in the US, this event pretty much shattered it. There were all kinds of legal questions working their way through the courts.
The fact that Todeshaus used the local gang population for his army didn't help. That threatened to set off a race war. Most of those who were turned were black or Hispanic, so when Quantum lit up the sky with his UV projection, they were the majority of the dead- or more accurately ashed. The few who did survive were mostly the underage victims of Todeshaus himself and they weren't always black as he tended to choose affluent white girls to drain and molest. I understand it was some kind of fetish of his.
Chancellor Merrick Bishop is walking as fine a political line as I am. My main concern has less to do with those who died, after all they were in the middle of a wilding riot that stretched from North Gwinnette, all the way to midtown. Thousands of people were killed and billions of dollars worth of property was damaged or destroyed. His issue was what to do with half a dozen underage vampires. Sending them back to live with their families was almost completely out of the question. They needed guidance, they needed someone to teach them control and how to follow the rules.
That was where Doctor Leger in New Orleans came in handy. He made some phone calls and all the girls found a new home in a little suburb north of Miami, with a very special guardian. In someways it was the perfect fit. Four ghosts and six vampires sharing a house in Florida. Sounds like the making of a good television series.
But Merrick was also trying to bring some order to the chaos of what was left of the nocturnal community here in Atlanta. Vlad in Miami had only grudgingly conceded that the city was in good hands. He wasn't about to demand of a dragon an oath of fealty. But there were some difficulties and that was what we were here to discuss.
It was the kind of meeting that should be taking place in every major city around the country, but for some reason wasn't. There were five of us sitting in my office on the corner of Peachtree Street and Alabama Avenue. Merrick of course was tall and distinguished looking with black hair and blue eyes. He was a well-built man who appeared to be in his mid forties and reminded me a great deal of James Bond for some reason. Next to him was his wife, Nicole who had the same black hair and blue eyes, but was very much on the smaller side. I'd long ago, learned that size was not an indication of power when it came to women. Next to her was Kymbrall FeyStone, their nephew. He of course was only about fifteen with longish blond hair and golden eyes. The freckles that he'd sported during the Dragon War looked like they were beginning to fade. Finally, there was Doctor Plainwalker aka Moonwind from the Atlanta Knights. He looked to be in his mid thirties and was smaller than even Nicole with longish blond hair and blue eyes.
"Exactly what do you want to discuss, Director Greenbough?" Merrick asked me.
I smiled at him. We'd already danced around the preliminaries and were starting to get down to brass tacks on the issues. "As you know, my job is to facilitate the interaction of the nocturnal community and the federal government. To do that, I need to know how things are going in the community, what issues need to be dealt with and try to keep open warfare out of the streets."
"Good luck with that," Nicole said with a smile.
"That's my point, Mrs. Bishop. I need to know what's going on," I told her returning the smile.
"Consolidation for the most part," Merrick said. "Todeshaus may have actually done the city a favor in the long run. He decimated the local gang population. It's been fairly easy for me to make sure that they don't come back into power."
"How are you doing that?" I asked warily.
"I have several packs of werewolves and other shifters who are offering their help," he said. "Todeshaus ran just about all the respectable and not-so-respectable nocturnals out of the city. He was basically killing anybody that wasn't his. That left a considerable power vacuum as well. The werewolves are offering their aid in return for a larger share of influence in Atlanta's nocturnal community."
"Is it wise to show that kind of favoritism?" Doctor Plainwalker asked.
"Yes, and no," Merrick said. "These are older werewolves that came to help fight Todeshaus. They've earned their status and rank . They're not the young pups with more balls than brains."
"What about the vampires?" I asked. "There've been some reports of the werewolves attacking vampires returning to their homes. There was some kind of major dust up over at the zoo, but I can't get too many details."
"Ah, that would be young Mr. Milne," Mrs. Bishop said. "He is actually a harmless vampire unless provoked or attacked. He handed the werewolves their collective asses and now they know to leave him alone. From what I understand, he'd lived in the city for over a hundred years and no other vampire knew he was here, including the old Chancellor, and the hierarchy before them. He doesn't feed off of humans and he's rather happy to keep the Grant Park Zoo funded so he can live quietly with his Bengals."
"Some people say he's only a kid," I told her of the rumors I'd heard.
"He was about eight or nine when he was turned. Think of him as Christopher Robin from Winnie the Pooh," she said. "Only with the ability to defend himself rather well."
"What about the other attacks?" I asked.
"Several of those were less than desirable vampires to have in the city, and others were unfortunate misunderstandings. Those few that have contacted me have had the situation cleared up," Merrick said.
"You are aware of the new laws that Congress passed during the last session aren't you?" I asked.
"You mean the ones requiring nocturnals to register?" Kymbrall queried.
"Yeah, the ones that have already been challenged in court," I told him with a smile.
"What of them?" Merrick asked. "Until a judge removes the injunction against their application, then we aren't going to worry about them." He looked over at Plainwalker and said, "And they are so broad that they would require about twenty-five percent of transhumans to register as well, yourself included Doctor."
Plainwalker nodded, his face clearly showing his disdain for those laws. "I'm aware of that. What is the most odious about them is the requirement to register weakness with them. If the law is upheld, I'm considering registering a severe allergy to chocolate."
"I didn't know you are allergic to chocolate," I said.
"I'm not," he replied. "But the idea of people throwing chocolate at me, sounds good."
"You must get very specific with your allergy, Doctor Plainwalker," Nicole said with a grin. "You are allergic to Dove Chocolate, or Godiva. After all, you only want them throwing the good stuff."
"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Bishop," the small man said with a smile.
"I'll personally will register my weakness as champagne, roses, and good chocolate," she joked. "Maybe diamonds and expensive fur coats."
"That leaves me with a question, Mr. Greenbough," Kymbrall asked.
"Go ahead, Kym," I said.
"If the government is attempting to turn on us again, why did you agree to go to work for them?"
I smiled at him and said, "As a magecat my job is to keep the nocturnal community, or just about any other threat from enslaving mankind. Access to government resources helps me do that. And I made it very clear at my confirmation that my first loyalty lies with My Lady, my second to the Constitution, and my third to the people. Nowhere did I say it lay with the administration or the government."
Kym nodded and smiled, my answer seemed to please him. For some reason, that pleased me.
Scene 4:
Atlanta Knights Headquarters Atlanta, Georgia
Jett Storm aka Quantum[/b]
"Are you sure about this Jett?" Evan asked me as we were sitting in the main offices of the Headquarters in Midtown signing our new contracts. "I mean six months ago you were hell bent on quitting the team and going back to school."
I nodded to him and said, "Yeah. I'm sure. Mom and I had a long talk about it. Delsin won't be given any access to the company and she will continue to run it."
"Even with the baby?" Evan asked.
"Yeah, even with the baby. She doesn't understand why I distrust Delsin, but she recognizes that it is my prerogative. Besides, she wants to keep busy with it. She says that retirement would be boring."
"I don't understand why you distrust him either," he said.
I shook my head. It was a fair question, one that I had tried answer for myself since I met the man. For some reason, I got the feeling he was snickering up his sleeve at me about something and that irritated the hell out of me. "Let's just say it's a gut feeling, and leave it at that. He sets off all my warning signals for some reason."
"Okay, so you don't like your new step dad. What I want to make sure of is that you are serious about staying with the team. I'd like to know that we're doing this together," Evan told me. "I don't want anymore heart jolting surprises like the one you gave me in Miami." He had a point. I had out of the blue and unilaterally announced that I was going to quit the team and go back to college to take over the company. In the past we'd always said that we would make these kinds of decisions together. I'd hurt him that day.
The sad part about it was that it would be months before I realized how deeply I had hurt him. In a small way, I guess it was for the good, but it still bothered me to know that I'd wounded him that deeply. Over the last several months, he'd quietly opened a new bank account, and was now putting away or investing large chunks of his paycheck. I think it was his way of telling me that he wasn't going to be caught off guard again. Being a member of the Atlanta Knights was important to Evan, and he wasn't going to lose it if he didn't have to, even if it meant we wouldn't be a couple.
Believe you me, I took notice. Yeah, I need to take over my father's company, but it doesn't have to be now, and it doesn't mean I have to to go to Miami to do it. We'd decided- together- to stay here in Atlanta, stay members of the team and go back to school. I of course could pay my own way with no problem. Evan however, in a streak of independence was taking the company up on its offer to pay for our continuing education. He was making it clear that he could make it without me if he had to. He was showing a lot more independence these days.
With all of this running in the back of my mind, I signed our new one year contract with Murphy's Law and handed him the pen to sign his. "Murphy's Law is where we need to be right now."
"I'm glad you agree," he told me. "Until Homeguard starts graduating new students, Atlanta needs us. If you hadn't been here when Todeshaus attacked, the casualty rate would have been much higher."
I just smiled at him and considered replying with a simply "I know". That's what Commander Greenbough would have done. But as I get older, the more I realize that I'm not Trey Greenbough. I owe a great deal of my experience, knowledge, and skill as a transhuman to him. He will always be a friend and a mentor, but at the same time, I have to be who I am, and I know he would understand that. Instead I simply said, "We all pitched in on that fight, Evan."
"Yeah, but you lighting up Midtown made the difference," he said.
I smiled at him and asked in mock anger, "You accusing me of being a flamer?"
He grinned back getting the joke and said, "Nah. You're more of a twink."
"Boys...," Ms. Murphy warned. "We're glad both of you are continuing on as employees of the M-7 Corporation, and Atlanta is lucky to have both of you. Between the Atlanta Knights and Dragonphyre, I'd say the city is in good hands."
Scene 5
The Las Vegas Coast
"That Strange Kid Corbin" Grimwauld aka Mage Light
Sister Slice and I had faced off before, and she'd lost. Somehow I didn't think the same trick would work again. First off, although Las Vegas was now on the coast, we weren't close enough for me use the bay the same way I did in Bodego Bay. Secondly, this time we were the ones who were outnumbered. It was just me and Aerin against what was left of The Blasters: Hardcase, Sister Slice, and Firefury. Da Man and Stretch were in lock up and it looked like Stretch may be facing a firing squad. When the police got to digging, they found out that he was AWOL from the Marine Corps was wanted for beating his sergeant to death.
Kevin and Murphy were off the coast of Africa rescuing an oil tanker from Somali Pirates. Def'n and Lorna were in Australia as part of an international effort to alleviate the suffering from the floods there. We thought it best not to send Aerin because they would have to work with some of the UNIPACT teams. The fact that as a teenager, she'd been kidnapped and taken to Riyadh meant that she had a pretty low opinion of anybody who would work for the UN in general and UNIPACT specifically. I think the best term I'd ever heard her use for them was "bottom sucking pond scum". Lastly, Leif was off at some meeting with the other magecats.
The situation wasn't looking good. It was early on a Monday morning when Vegas was quiet. It had rained last night and the streets were still wet. There was a huge fiery hole in the side of the MGM Grand Hotel and Hardcase was laying down a suppression volley of micro missiles against the private security team that was shooting at her. She had a huge metal case in her left hand with the hotel's logo on it. Next door, Studio 54 was on fire and Firefury was taking potshots at anyone coming out of the emergency doors. Across the street, Sister Slice was streaking out of Gallagher's Steak House, her twin knives bloody. I some how got the feeling it wasn't from a rare steak.
Aerin as Coldfire was floating above the street that was quickly becoming empty. The villains were panicking the civilians making them choose between the danger of the gunfire coming from the casino, or the fire at the club or the danger of being fried by Firefury or blown up by one of Hardcase's missiles. Me, I was standing in the middle of the street trying to decide whether to take on Sister Slice again, or do something about Firefury and Hardcase. It was time to act.
I reached for my book and thumbed to a quick page I had marked, found the spell and gathered my will. I looked up in time so see that Sister Slice had spotted me and was changing her direction to bear down on me. She liked to play with blades, I had several hundred for her to play with.
I released my will and pointed to the space between us. A field of whirling blades of pure force appeared in mid-air between us blocking most of the street. Passing through that, even at Mach one was going to be painful. I watched as she saw them take form and then cut to the side to make an almost ninety degree turn down Tropicana..
When I looked back toward the mess in the street, I saw Coldfire's forcefield take a direct hit from a volley of Hardcase's missiles. There was no challenge, evidently she just saw Coldfire and fired. It's good to know where you stand with some people.
As Sister Slice made her way around the block, I quickly flipped to another marked page. It was a simple spell. The book listed it as second or third level depending on the caster's class. I pointed to Firefury and said a single word, "Hold."
Her face went slack and she stopped flying and began to slowly sink toward the middle of the street. That would hold her for a few moments at least, depending on how strong her will was. The brief smile that was tugging at the corner of my lips turned down when I saw Sister Slice racing towards me from the side. I knew I couldn't move the blade barrier, so I did the next best thing.
Blink. I moved myself to the other side as she passed through the spot where I'd been a second ago. I could see the pressure wave in front of her as she toyed with the sound barrier. Some contingency spells were just too damn useful.
Suddenly out of nowhere I heard a steady thump of air like the beating of wings; accompanying it was the the jingle of coins. I looked up to where it was coming from and saw a coppery winged form in a green body suit begin to descend. At first I thought it was Razorwing, but as I got a closer look I could see where the facial structure was wrong for him, and from what I know of Evan McAllister, he wouldn't be caught dead in that shade of green. The body and the wings were made of a dark coppery metal, unlike Razorwing's which were more gold.
He swooped past me at an oblique angle to Sister Slice and suddenly a spike of metal grew between his hands. Twisting in mid air, he hurled it toward the scarlet clad criminal. The spear went low and it looked like he'd over-compensated for her speed. But then her legs hit it and in a jumble of limbs she went plowing into the pavement. I heard an audible crack as she broke something.
"Slice!" Hardcase yelled through her speakers. Suddenly she turned from where she was closing with Coldfire and fired a volley of missiles toward the winged guy. He jinked hard to the side but the missiles had locked on. He began to climb into the air his wings sounding like a pocket full of coins, but the missiles were too fast. Quickly I flipped to the most famous of all spells, and released my will. I watched a tiny pea-like ember shot from my finger and streak out toward the missiles. The winged dude was still outside the blast radius of the spell, but I wasn't sure about that of the missiles. The ember flew into the middle of them and with a low "whumpf!" it detonated into a ball of fire.
The effect was spectacular. The intense heat ignited the missile's fuel supply and there was a second explosion that echoed off the walls of both MGM Grand and the New York, New York. I saw the force of the blast push their target higher into air. I hoped he'd be all right as I turned my attention back to the rest of the fight.
Coldfire took advantage of Hardcase's distraction. With a single gesture, the white fire surrounding Aerin's body flared bright and then Hardcase was batted from the sky by an invisible hand. She plowed face first into the concrete below, hitting just a few feet away from the front entry of the MGM Grand. What few people were left out in the open scattered, some hiding behind cars, the corners of buildings and lying flat in the occassional ditch. I didn't have to be a telepath to know that they were afraid. Running however wasn't always an option. Sister Slice had a reputation of chasing runners down and killing them.
Suddenly the stench of rotten eggs filled the air. It reminded me of Leif after a night of Tex-Mex chili with extra beans only far worse- horrible! I looked around to see a cloud of red and black smoke appearing near Firefury. Stepping from it was a male figure with red skin and dressed in a silver and red armless bodysuit. His legs were completely exposed below the thighs, and his head was shaved clean.
Above him, I heard another voice as it rang through the morning air; clear and commanding. "Five targets on scene. Two members of Murphy's Law, code named Mage Light and Coldfire. Intel suggests they claim to be the children of some pagan goddesses. Three operatives of the terrorist group known as the Blasters code named Firefury, Hardcase, and Sister Slice. All three wanted on a long list of charges. Spike has neutralized Sister Slice. Firefury appears to be under some kind of compulsion and Hardcase is stunned." I looked up to see yet another winged figure, this one with white feathers and dressed in a red top and dark bottoms. He had a big-ass sword strapped to his back as he beat his wings to hover over the battlefield. I briefly wondered about all the winged transhumans popping up lately.
"Coldfire! New targets! Intentions unknown!" I radioed to Aerin through our M7-issue throat mic as more of the newcomers made their presence known.
"Unless they attack first or endanger civilians or property, don't engage until we get more information," she replied. I knew that meant mind scans. Aerin was a telepath, nowhere near as powerful as Avalon or Caster, or even Depth Charge, but she was no slouch- and she'd been trained by Avalon so raw skill counted for a lot.
Coldfire dropped from the sky next to me and said, "Hardcase is stunned. You got anything to contain her?"
"Depends who you want to bring in the most, her or Firefury," I told her looking over to where Sister Slice was rolling on the ground trying to force the compound fracture in her shin back into her leg. "I don't think Sister Slice is going anywhere soon."
She nodded and said, "Hardcase is the primary target. We take her out, and her organization may collapse."
I nodded pulling a small glass gem from my pouch. "This may take a few seconds."
"Understood," she said grinning back to me. "Will it in anyway violate her civil rights?"
"It's a simple binding spell. She'll be preserved and time won't seem to pass for her," I replied. I set the conditions for her release to be the breaking of the gem, that way the police can let her out when they're ready without me being there. They really appreciate little touches like that. I keeps them in control of the situation.
I began to chant softly as Coldfire went to talk to the guy with the sword. I only vaguely heard the conversation as I walked toward Hardcase. I didn't want to get too close, as she could be faking it.
Suddenly something huge slammed into my side, knocking me to the ground. I felt my ribs break under the force. "No magic!" This huge black woman wearing a green and black bodysuit shouted as she drew back her fist to hit me again. "It's the devil's work!" I rolled to the side as the fist came down and shattered the asphalt where my head was a second ago. The woman was trying to kill me!
Feeling like someone had just driven a spike through my side, I struggled to my feet and looked down to see what spell my book was at. It wasn't my first choice but it was what I had handy. As the woman turned to charge me again, I made sure that nobody else would be caught in the cone of effect. With a quick gesture that made my ribs burn like fire, and threatened to send me into a coughing fit, I released my will. She was suddenly hit by a blast of energy that sucked all the heat out of whatever was inside it. In less than a second ice crystals had formed on her eyebrows, her skin turned white and cracked, and the tip of her nose turned white. She stopped dead in her tracks, and then fell over, a frozen statue of ice.
"Golgotha!" The guy with sword screamed, drew it from between his wings and dove toward me.
My ribs still burning, I hit him with more of the same. The effects were less than spectacular. As we say in gaming circles, I guess he made his saving throw for half damage- or maybe as a winged flyer he's less susceptible to cold. Anyway, he kept coming at me despite the ice on his wings and his face covered in frost.
As he swooped down toward me, swinging that blade faster than I expected, I was barely able to twist out of the way to keep it from taking my head off. I felt the edge bite the air near my neck and then the pain in my ribs hit me again. I felt a sharp stab in my side. At first I thought he'd managed to catch me with a backwards thrust. As I hit my knees coughing up blood, I realized that I'd punctured a lung with a broken rib.
The world around me turned hazy and gray as sparkles swam before my eyes. I fumbled through my book saying a brief prayer to my mother. I knew my own divine healing factor would eventually take care of the damage, if I didn't pass out from the pain first and they managed to kill me while I was unconscious.
My fingers feeling numb from the pain shooting down my arm, I struggled to get to the right page. I was having trouble focusing my eyes on the page, and found the papers smeared and sticky. Some dry part of my mind noted that it was my own blood. As I began the spell, I felt the ground suddenly shake around me, and something roared into the morning air. A rush of wind hit me from the side nearly knocking me over as I noted something huge and white slamming into the ground nearby.
Finally gathering my will through the gray haze, I released the spell. I felt the energy first flow out of that spark in my soul that powered my spells and then into my body. I think I grunted once as my body pulled the ribs back into place and sealed up the wound in my lung. I felt the tissue repair itself, and the bone mended itself into place. I would still hurt, probably for a few days, but most of the damage had been healed.
Stumbling to my feet, I looked around. Coldfire had grown to her mother's stature of five stories and the newcomers were making a hasty retreat, the woman who'd attacked me being carried under the arms by the two guys with wings. I looked up as Aerin smiled down at me. "You okay?" she asked, her voice booming off the nearby buildings.
I nodded and said, "I am now. She caught me by surprised, broke some ribs."
"We'll have Lifeforce look you over when they get back," she told me and I could feel the underlying order that would brook no argument in her tone.
Looking around I asked, "Where's Hardcase and Firefury?"
We both began searching the area, but could find no sign of either them or the metal case of money they'd stolen. Only Sister Slice remained as she tried to crawl away with a broken leg. "They got away," Aerin said shrinking down. It was either let them go or let those dweeks kill you."
"Dweeks?" I asked.
"Dweebs crossed with geeks," she said looking over at Sister Slice. With a wave of her hand, she telekinetically picked up the villain and brought her toward us. "At least we got this one."
