Chapter Eighteen #2
“Speculate later,” EJ demanded into the ear-patch.
“I have to be outside, on the street behind the building, in four minutes,” I said, ending comms. My eyes were on Walter.
From the couch, Villetti said, “I’ve called in backup, but they’ll be limited and slow.” When I didn’t reply or look his way, he said, gently, “Angelina. Tesoro mio.”
It was the tone that nearly broke me. The breath I took juddered in my chest.
Without asking, Walter stepped inside my apartment. Walking toward me. No…Walking toward the doors to the porch and the storm outside and the…and the coming attack by the tracked land drone in the snow.
His brand flared a bright emerald green. That color was the same shade as the glow at the queen’s reception. It was the same color as the emerald ring Nyoka had worn, on the fingers that had been cut off.
I updated that information into comms and added, “Somebody get that ring and crush the stone. I think it’s in EJ’s apartment.”
“In the black stone box in the center of the kitchen table,” EJ said.
“Copy that,” Peewee said. “Entering your apartment to locate.”
Vertigo threatened again. I tilted but caught a wall. I had moved closer to Walter without thinking about it. I said, “I’m feeling-seeing-thinking. The bot is a military land drone. Tracked locomotion. Auto-generated camo. No heat signature. Back of the building.”
Grizz growled.
Walter edged toward the porch doors. I snugged my helmet into place one-handed. Just in case.
“I can’t let you fight with us, Lee,” I said, not watching Villetti, but feeling his eyes on me. “I’m under the queen’s standard. Her crest is flying over the building. You’re human law enforcement.”
Walter stopped at the sliding doors and opened one, his long-fingered hand wide on the invisi-glass. He leaned into the glass as if leaning toward an abyss to throw himself from. His brand glowed in the reflection of the window. Willim or Nyoka. One or both had to be near.
Villetti slapped his unicom on his wristband and removed an ear-patch.
Touched his ear-patch into place and ID’d himself and his badge number.
“Dispatch, contact Rick LaFleur, PsyLED unit eighteen, out of Knoxville office. He should be in a hotel in Chat-town. Then remote me to his comms.” Lee sounded more himself.
“The headache should start dissipating in a few seconds,” I told him.
“Good to know.”
I opened my jewelry box and slid my own rings onto my fingers, each gem filled with stored power.
No one knew what I was. No one knew what I could—potentially—do except the queen and my parents.
Even EJ didn’t know. He was gonna be pissed at being out of the loop.
I thought about the charm bracelet downstairs in the drawer.
I didn’t have time to get it. But I had plenty of offensive weapons here.
I glanced from Walter to Villetti’s face.
Repositioned so I could see both of them at once.
Villetti spoke. “Hey, Rick. The queen’s banner is flying over the Everhart-Trueblood building.
A war bot is approaching. Angie is wearing the queen’s colors.
If recent events are an indication, the bot will likely be carrying a demon bomb that might contaminate the human sector for blocks.
For reasons I am not willing to discuss, there is an oversized containment chamber in the four-by-four I drove in, along with an auto-targeting, shoulder-mounted demon-zooka with one short-term holding working in its ordnance, and one set of armor that happens to fit me.
” He stopped abruptly and then raised his voice, seeming to talk over LaFleur.
“I’m not interested in my legal right to have any of this in my possession.
I am informing PsyLED of my intention to join this battle, under the queen’s banner, as a law enforcement officer out of CPD, to protect and serve the human citizens of Chattanooga from demon attack, using the weapons at my disposal. ”
A full one second later, Villetti barked with laughter and said, “You’re not my type,” then he stopped and listened.
“Holding.” He gave me a two-fingered salute and left the apartment at a stumbling run, leaving me with Walter and the cats, who were acting all weird.
Of course with cats everything was weird. The door closed behind Villetti.
Over comms, Peewee said, “Located the jewelry. It’s glowing. You sure I can safely shatter it?”
“Stand down. On my way,” EJ said.
I secured the neck of the null cloak tight and draped it in front of me. The null energies were noticeably less painful over this armor than over yoga clothes. The amulet from my pocket was still gripped in my slightly numb fingers.
I walked toward Walter, thumbing the agate amulet and remembering the Irish Gaelic wyrd working contained within.
I didn’t know if this would work on a vamp, but it was worth a shot.
Approaching Walter, I raised my hand, the small stone cupped in my palm.
I took Walter’s outstretched hand in mine, his skin icy and cold as the snow outside.
I pressed his hand into a fist around the amulet. “Gan comhfhios,” I whispered.
Walter dropped like a stone. The futures altered again.
I wasn’t sure if they were better or worse for me, not with that bot and the images of my bloody body, but Walter was now safe in the futures I could see.
Moving swiftly, I staked the vampire in the tiny spot on his belly to further incapacitate him and dragged him by one arm across the room, away from the windows.
“Baby brother,” I said into the mic. “Send someone to pick up Walter and take him to the guards’ quarters, please. He has to stay inside and under guard. The geas on his cheek is almost fully activated, and he’ll try to go outside. If he gets outside all bets are off.”
EJ muttered something and then said, “Copy that. I’m destroying the emeralds and then I’m on my way.” He sounded breathless. Running up and down the stairs was a workout, even for him.
I picked up my staff. My hands burned at the contact.
I set it down and wriggled my hands into a pair of military fingerless gloves.
Into each glove I slid a healing amulet, a wooden rectangle.
Teak. Carved with a single rune for power.
Uruz: the wild ox, signifying physical strength, speed, untamed potential, and energy.
Health. Freedom, action, courage, tenacity.
The shaping of power and pattern, understanding, wisdom.
Sexual desire, masculine potency. The sex and potency I didn’t need right now but had to accept any and all consequences of directing my magic through my mother’s healing runes and into my damaged hands.
I added in a few rosemary leaves, tucking them into the fingers and the backs of the gloves.
My hands might have some protection now, and some was better than none. The runes weren’t something I had used before. Mama’s magic was different from mine. Tested. Certain. Little I had done in the last two days had been run through trials by a coven.
Aunt Jane said she used to fly by the seat of her pants.
Following in her footsteps wasn’t in my life plan. Not that I had a life plan beyond staying alive and building The Firm’s rep and stacking up closed cases. And maybe jumping Villetti’s bones someday.
Villetti stepped back into the apartment, looked from Walter to me.
He dumped armor on the kitchen table and I watched him strip and armor up, hands fast, sure.
The man looked damn good right now. I reined in my libido.
He had a full suit of military armor. Military weapons.
Some amulets I could partially identify by the magical signatures on them, greens, blues, ambers, reds.
He glanced at me, but his concentration was elsewhere.
“Yes, Governor Willis,” Villetti said.
I lifted an eyebrow.
The faintest of smiles lifted his lips at my reaction.
“You understand the situation, Governor? Yes, ma’am.
I will, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” He ended the call and spoke to me.
“LaFleur got me through. We’re safe to use the weapons.
Peg pulled my four-by-four inside the front entry, and is trying to get it through the exit at the back of the building.
It’s equipped with a C-74 containment vessel and a onetime-use weapon. ”
He gave a hard smile at whatever I let slip onto my face.
“My demon-zooka. I’ll finish armoring in position.”
“What’s a demon-zooka?”
“A bazooka-style weapon based loosely on an American military shoulder-mounted SMAW—an Mk 153 Shoulder-Launched Multipurpose Assault Weapon. But this one is lighter weight, calibrated to hold a single round sufficient to disable a bot and either slow down or put a couple hundred demons into short-term stasis—ten minutes, tops—until they can be collected. Hopefully we can get the C-74 vessel in place in that timeframe. Where do you want me and my big gun?”
I snorted when he waggled his eyebrows at me suggestively.
I closed my eyes, trying to pull sense into the visions but they evaporated like mist on a spring day, leaving only shadows of impressions.
“Back of the building for the containment vessel? My porch or EJ’s, for the demon-zooka?
” We both heard the uncertainty in my voice.
“There are two drawbacks to my equipment’s usefulness,” Villetti said.
“I have only the one round and my collection device is too large to be easily portable through three feet of snow. Walter is unconscious and I was hoping to use his superior strength to carry the C-74 into range. Instead, if I hit the bot—I’d give my chances a possible seventy-five percent likelihood of success—and the distance is too great, we will be dependent upon your staff, which will further damage your hands.
I am…sorry.” Grief flashed across his face before he shuttered it away.