17 The Kingsleys #2
I suck in a sharp breath as Gemma turns her computer toward us once more.
She shows us another photo. A hooded figure swathed in black, face obscured.
A full black mesh, silver accents, helmet-like.
The lack of features lends the figure a cold, emotionless quality.
It’s the same mask I stared at two nights ago in a field, the same mask worn by the person who turned the Gauntlet, that weapon, on us.
“That’s who took Eldi,” Calvin says sharply.
“It could have been anyone under there,” I reply.
“Well, if it was the eldest sister, Eldi is in real trouble,” Wolff says.
“The eldest Kingsley sister is known for her creativity,” Gemma says. “She’s their inventor. She’s the one who modified and set loose the lycanthropy virus.”
“And that weapon,” Calvin says, “that Gauntlet, the one she used on us—”
“Her proudest achievement to date, I believe,” I say bitterly through numb lips. A memory, the Gauntlet flashing silver and swirling darkness, an echo of competing screams rings in my ears. Pain ripping through my head.
“You see her while you’re trying to rescue Eldi, and you might as well give up,” Wolff says, tapping the photo.
“If she’s the worst of the three, the eldest, why isn’t she the one to inherit her mother’s agency?” Calvin asks.
“No idea,” Gemma says. “It makes no sense. She’s usually sequestered away somewhere doing who knows what. Only reappears to terrorize people from time to time.”
I’ve listened very closely over the years; it’s of particular interest to me what Adele Kingsley’s eldest is rumored to be up to.
“Maybe there’s some internal grudge, sibling rivalry, infighting,” Wolff says.
“If there was a falling-out, you wouldn’t have heard about it,” I say.
“Adele would never admit to disloyalty among her ranks. That’s a Kingsley trait, after all—wear a mask and pretend everything is fine.
” I don’t like the way the three of them share a look.
As if I were something to be cautious of now. But I can’t blame them.
“And the third sister?” Calvin asks.
“The middle sister is the family screwup, from all reports,” I say.
“Works as a regular agent. Adele tries to keep her off the radar. Any stories I heard about her were rumors of incompetence or making trouble for trouble’s sake for Adele.
Irritation, shame, not sure what Adele feels for her, but I don’t think it’s love.
And I think her daughter returns the sentiment. ”
“Either way, the middle daughter’s name and face aren’t known either.
Agency 51 is serious about secrecy,” Gemma says.
“Also, there’s no father involved with the daughters.
I don’t know how Adele had the kids. There are rumors of genetic engineering, child stealing, stuff like that.
No idea if any of the sisters are genetically related to each other or Adele.
Some of the wilder theories are that they were nonhuman creatures rather than human children. ”
I feel suddenly hot all over, and a wave of nausea rolls over me. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten the waffles so fast. “People really think they aren’t even human? What do they think they are, then?”
Gemma shrugs. “Aliens, zombies. There are whispers about necromancy and dark magic. Sometimes bodies go into Agency 51, and they don’t come back out.
Sometimes they come out . . . damaged. It’s all kept pretty quiet.
Scarce credible information exists to suggest the sisters are anything but human.
Maybe fearmongering, making them seem like monsters.
They don’t do themselves any favors with the masks and the secrecy. ”
“So these sisters could be anyone, really?” Calvin says.
“Pretty much. Identities stay obscured inside the building,” Gemma says. “Coworkers don’t even know what each other’s faces look like, even though they all live out there in the compound.”
“And therein lies the problem,” Wolff says. “Who can you trust when there could be incognito agents or even Kingsley sisters themselves among you? So agents keep their heads down and stay trapped once they’re hooked. Adele leverages loyalty by stoking discord.”
“Trust is overrated,” I say, “and lucky for us, it’s easier to infiltrate somewhere disguises are the norm.”
“Are you sure there’s no one inside who could help, a janitor, a repair technician, anyone?” Calvin asks.
Wolff shifts uncomfortably. “I could try contacting someone, but I doubt they’ll reply.”
Gemma says scornfully, “Wolff here ruined things with a new point of contact we’d been on-boarding. He slept with her, and she ghosted him. Not that I’m still pissed about his unprofessional behavior. She said her name was Summer Raine, and he still fell for it.”
A flash of something that looks like pain flickers across Wolff’s face, and he remains uncharacteristically silent, not saying a word in his own defense. Since I’m not an asshole, I decide to leave well enough alone. Even Wolff doesn’t deserve to be teased about some things.
“You can have all my information,” Gemma says, handing me a flash drive, “but you’re on your own; there’s nothing else I can offer you. I’m sorry.”
“If I don’t come out—” I pause.
“I’ll try to get Eldi out,” Gemma says. “If it comes to that, I’ll do it regardless of orders or authority.”
Wolff sighs. “I won’t stop you.” That’s the best I’ll get out of him.
“And if I don’t come out of Agency 51, promise me you’ll make sure the truth about them gets out. No matter what they do to me. It’s time someone took them down.”
“Getting a little dramatic, aren’t you?” Wolff says. Calvin shifts uncomfortably next to me, and Gemma narrows her eyes but makes her promises to me.
We return to the Winnebago but decide there’s no point in camping anywhere but the Waffle House parking lot.
“The agent that followed us,” Calvin asks me, “you know her from working at the agency, don’t you?”
I hesitate. “Agents operate alone. But she was . . . my partner, for lack of a better term. We worked together on a few projects.”
I’d hoped she would leave after I was gone, but that never happened.
“What did you do for them, Reggie?” Calvin asks.
“General research. A lot like what I do now, looking for creatures and things that they might find useful.”
“Why? Why would you work for them?”
These are dangerous topics.
“Because not everyone makes the best decisions when they’re young and on their own, Calvin. Not everyone has a family who cares, like yours, that they can fall back on,” I say a little nastily. “Some of us don’t always have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
I grunt noncommittally. What does he know? He’s never been in my shoes.
“And you left because of Eldi?”
“I left because of the idea of Eldi. Of the others like her who were hurt by Agency 51 and the Kingsleys. I left because I found out who I truly was, deep down, the core of myself. Eldi didn’t find her way to me until later.”