Chapter 14
brADLEY
“Nicoletta Falcón, this is harassment. You’ve already questioned my client about the murders, and he’s explained his lack of involvement,” Lambert Senior said.
As the first Lambert of Lambert, Lambert & Scott, he was a fierce legal advocate, and I rarely got to see him in action.
The closest I ever came was usually at Father’s company holiday parties, when he got competitive with his wife—the second Lambert of Lambert, Lambert & Scott—over the correct way to make a gingerbread martini.
“Mister Brooks, you’re paying a very expensive lawyer.” Falcón tapped an unlit cigarette on the desk, a few stray shreds of tobacco falling loose. “For a man who claims he didn’t do anything wrong.”
Before I could answer, Lambert held up his hand, and I bit the inside of my lips until I tasted blood. My knee was nearly vibrating the table, and I dropped one of my hands to it, pressing down hard until I stopped moving.
“My client has already answered all of your questions regarding the murders, Director Falcón, so unless you have additional specific questions you would like him to answer, we’re going to be leaving.
” Lambert stood, and I followed, my knees jostling the table, nearly tripping on my own chair as I tried to catch myself.
“Sit down,” Falcón said. “I didn’t say anything about murders. This is about theft, magic exposure to mundanes, and assault with a magical weapon.”
Gaping at her, I stuttered, “What? I have no idea—They attacked first—Are you suggesting—”
This time, Lambert actually reached out and grabbed my arm, which was so startling I found myself frozen in place long enough for him to say, “Those are very grave accusations, Director. I assume you have some sort of evidence to corroborate that?”
“Oh we have evidence.” Falcón tossed a disk onto the table, then opened a file folder containing a sheaf of papers. “If you and your client will sit down, Lambert?”
With narrowed eyes, Lambert sat, tugging me down with him, but his fingers were so tight on my arm, I could practically hear him saying, Not a word, Bradley.
And perhaps I had gained telepathy as well as the ability to control minds under Hive influence?
I found myself struggling to breathe, struggling to think.
Only a few hours earlier, we’d been fighting the Hive. Again!
Methodically, Falcón took out a portion of the papers, lining the edges up with the side of the desk, her forefinger nudging the pile into place.
“These are witness statements from mundanes at one of JA Williams’s clubs downtown.
They saw two men using magic. Exposing magical practices is a felony at best. At worst, it’s a crime that gets your client thrown into an MEA black ops site and you disbarred for assisting in the offense. ”
Lambert picked up one of the sheets of paper, examining it. As he read, Falcón took out another stack of paper, putting it next to the first. “This is a victim statement from JA Williams, accusing your client of stealing an ancient Hive text from him. It’s corroborated by video.”
She laid the disk on top of the pile. “And also by his employees’ statements.”
When she saw she had Lambert’s attention again, she pulled out the last stack. “This is the report we just got a few hours ago, along with another victim statement from one Kane Smith. Another mundane. Another felony for those of us keeping track.”
Her tight smile showed that she was keeping track.
“Nicoletta.” Lambert put down the papers.
“You still haven’t charged my client with anything.
We’re still just having a conversation. While it’s interesting that you have nice, neat statements from lovely members of the mundane population, none of them identify the perpetrator as my client.
None of them even accurately describe him.
This one describes ‘a tall man, looked like Ryan Reynolds. You know Deadpool? Like him.’” Lambert let the sentence hang.
“Are you suggesting that description is supposed to represent my client?”
Falcón’s lip twisted up. “We still have the video.”
“You and I both know how easy it would be to falsify a video like that. How easy it would be to adjust what was seen. Now I think that this has been a lovely witch hunt, but my client is under no obligation to continue listening to this slander.” Lambert raised an eyebrow, and Falcón smirked.
“What if you and I step outside for a few minutes to work out the release paperwork?”
In answer, Falcón stood, and they stepped out of the room, shoes echoing as they walked down the hallway.
I was sure that Lambert only wanted out of the room because my reactions were too obvious.
I’d too clearly known exactly what Falcón was referring to when she’d started talking about the fights.
I was much more likely to say something I would regret with her in the room, looking frightening and threatening.
An MEA agent stepped inside, his back to the door, glaring at me. He silently scowled, and I bit my lip harder to keep from saying something regrettable. Before I could, the door opened again, and I stood in relief. Lambert was nothing if not efficient.
Only Lambert wasn’t there.
“Bradley Brooks,” JA Williams greeted me. “I thought we should talk.”
He was at least as tall as Griffin, but where the latter was muscled and had hands competent from working, Williams was wider, his white hair slicked back, his suit so expensive that even my father might have looked askance at the price tag.
He had skin smoothed from both mundane plastic surgery and magical enhancement, and as expensive as both had been, they couldn’t wipe away the unnatural smoothness.
The MEA agent nodded once at Williams and then stepped out of the room. When he left, Williams strode to the window, reaching up and closing the blinds, which clacked loudly and dimmed the room as they shut. I tried to speak but found my mouth too dry, so I swallowed, clearing my throat.
“Mr. Williams,” I said, my voice wobbling, frog-like. “JA. What are you doing here?”
“Well, the man I paid for discretion showed up at a club, stealing some important documents from me. Then he started sniffing around the oracles just when I had decided to test some products. And when this man, this researcher, this fool who believed in the Hive, who got laughed out of his own dissertation defense, when he went after my blacksmith, when he stole my proprietary plans… well, I had to come see for myself.” Williams leaned on the desk, both hands flat.
He loomed over me, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were bright in the dark.
“What kind of a punk tries to screw me over? I had to see the balls on this moron. I had to see if it was balls of steel or rocks for brains or both. Because I am JA Williams, and you do not fuck with me.”
His voice rose to a yell, and I winced away from the sound, swallowing through my dry mouth, part of me dissociating and watching as though I was seeing the whole thing from a corner of the room. He wasn’t here to see what kind of man I was.
He was here to kill me.
I wasn’t sure how I knew, but even though he didn’t have a weapon in hand, I just knew. I just knew I was done for, I was a goner, I was…
“So.” Williams pushed up on his hands, leaning closer and sneering down at me. “That’s the kind of man who thinks he can screw me.”
“I didn’t mean to…” I stuttered to a stop, unable to say screw you. Biting my lip, I thought about what I’d already done. He was one man. I’d faced down a camp of feral oracles. I’d faced down men with weapons and heard the echo of the Hive in my head.
Lifting my chin, I glared at him. “I won’t let you bring them back. I won’t let you bring the Hive back into this realm. I will stop you.”
Williams’s lip peeled back from his teeth, and he laughed. Then, he reached into his jacket and drew out a folded piece of paper, unfolding it before placing it in front of me. “Read it.”
When I looked down, it matched what we’d found in ArKane Studio. It was a copy from an old book, but rather than only having the glyphs and directions highlighted, it was a picture of the entire tablet.
I read it quickly, picking it up, drawing it closer to my face, my eyes watering from staring at it so long without blinking. Brigette and I had managed to deduce most of it, but seeing it here, so clearly written out, I couldn’t help but read aloud.
“The Hive Father will arrive, bringing the power of the Hive, the blood of the innocents, the future of the world. The Hive Father is all. The Hive Father is nothing. The Hive Father is krajnji otac. Jedini pravi otac. Jedini pravi vo?a. Do you even know what this means?” I demanded, pushing myself up.
“Jedanni.” Williams sounded out the word, trying again. “Jedinai.”
“Jedini,” I snapped, correcting his pronunciation.
“Jedini,” Williams said correctly. “I knew I wasn’t putting the emphasis in the right spot. Thank you.”
Then he raised his weapon, shooting me in the chest.
I stared at him, the gun in his hand small enough to fit in a pocket, unlike the automatic weapons he’d given his men.
When I looked down, blood was soaking my shirt, ruining the fabric, never coming out, and Griffin would be left wondering what happened to me for the rest of his life.
Because Williams was going to walk out of here, and MEA was going to circle its wagons.
“Why?” I asked, my hands braced on the desk the only thing keeping me upright. “Why?”
“I made it pretty clear,” Williams said, tucking the weapon away. His lips pulled to the side, and he raised an eyebrow. “You tried to ruin something I’ve been working on for decades. If you thought I was going to let some punk academic ruin this—”
“Why do it at all?” I gasped, feeling the bullet in my chest, feeling it burning through my lungs. I couldn’t breathe, each gasp feeling like I was inhaling glass. “You have… money… power. Why?”
“This world has gone to shit. You see it. I know you do. The way the weak are able to survive, to thrive in a system that should drown them at birth. The way everyone lets the idiots and beggars off. They give them what they need so no one has to work for it anymore. A man should have to work for what he gets. A man should have to earn it.” Williams shook his finger at me.
“How many times were you given what you needed without lifting a finger to earn it?”
“I—” I was saved from having to answer by coughing up a tremendous amount of blood as the ensorcelled bullet tunneled through my lungs.
“That’s what I thought. A man’s life should have value, and what value does your life have if you’re given everything?” He shook his head again.
My knees went out, and I collapsed down, still gripping the edge of the desk. “This will—” I tried to say “kill everything,” but the blood pouring from my lips turned it into gibberish. Williams seemed to understand what I was saying anyway.
“Exactly. You see now.” He gave me one last look. “I guess I do feel a little bad that you won’t ever see the monsters you were chasing for so long.”
I collapsed down, the concrete floor a relief to my fever-hot cheek. JA Williams’s shoes walked out of my line of sight, and I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, I was on a soft bed, and Griffin was sitting on a chair beside me, hovering close, his expression wan. His cheek was streaked with blood, his hair a mess. I reached over, pushing it off his forehead.
He caught my hand and turned it, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“What happened?” I asked, my chest hurting too much, my mouth too dry for this to be the afterlife.
“You got shot,” Griffin said, as though I’d done so on purpose. “You got shot, Bradley.”
“How did I survive?” I asked.
“Williams underestimated the capabilities of the MEA,” a voice said from the door.
It was Director Falcón, the woman who until very recently had been suggesting sending me to an MEA black ops site.
If this comfortable bed and Griffin at my side were the reality of a black ops site, I could easily make that sacrifice.
Falcón turned and called over her shoulder. “He’s awake.”
Elaine shoved her way past Falcón. “Bradley! You fool, you absolute fool.”
Griffin stood to give her room, gently stuffing a few pillows behind my back to help me sit up, and she hugged me tightly. My chest ached, but it felt more as though I’d been hit with a baseball. Not a bullet.
I wrapped my arms around her. When Elaine pulled back, her expression pinched, fixing her hair as though trying to forget the entire overwrought incident, she said, “You were very lucky that Griffin checked on you.”
“He was lucky that I had one magic wish left,” Falcón corrected. Then, without explaining, she crossed her arms. “Officially, you’re dead. This is a safe house. Now, I need to know what you and Williams talked about and how it ended up with two MEA agents dead.”
“I don’t know about the agents, but Williams talked to me—shot me—because he was annoyed at how we’d been bumbling into his plans and upsetting the apple cart.
” I looked around the room, noticing Julian and Brigette lingering in the doorway, their expressions drawn. “Because he’s trying to end the world.”