Balanced Chaos (The Void Series Book 3) Page 20

  “No!” Sam glanced up and down the hallway, seeing they were finally alone. “Can I come in?”

  “What does the colonel want?”

  “Lieutenant colonel,” she teased dropping her business demeanor.

  “What? Oh, right. Does he need me back in his office?” asked the corporal, oblivious to the change.

  “No, Philip. That was… look can I just come in?” She widened her eyes to express a different message: “so we can talk in private.”

  Werner glanced up and down the hallway again before opening his door a fraction wider. Sam ducked in under his arm and Werner slammed the door shut.

  “So what did the lieutenant colonel want?” Werner asked, turning around to look at her and folding his strong arms over his chest.

  “Mostly he just wanted me to tell you to get this stick out of your ass.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, I believe his exact words were ‘go tell that jackass to knock it off.’ But he did ask what was stuck up your ass, so the sentiment is still accurate.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This,” Sam waved at Werner’s stiff stance, “this ‘I can’t show any emotion’ nonsense. Look, I get that we don’t want anyone to know about us… but don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?”

  “They already know something is going on. I have to remember I’m here to do a job first, and that job is to keep you safe, not be your boytoy.”

  Below the belt, Werner, Sam thought. “You know what Gallagher said?”

  “You mean beyond commenting on what’s up my ass?”

  “He said he expected you to do your job, not to be regular army.”

  Werner looked away. “I don’t think we can do this, Sam. Be together, that is. People will talk… already talk, and I can’t… they just…”

  Sam snorted. “You know, between the two of us, I never thought you’d be the one to chicken out because of what other people thought. After all, it was always me who was the one worrying about being the outcast.” She shook her head. “I really never saw this coming,” Sam added as she shouldered her way past him and jerked the door open.

  A small crowd of men loitered in the hallway.

  “Oops,” Sam taunted. “I guess this is exactly what you were so worried about. Don’t worry boys. Nothing happened. We were just discussing plans for tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to think Corporal Werner would stoop to the pathetic level of a mystic.”

  Sam gave Werner one last glare before marching out, elbowing her way past the gawking men and into her own little sanctuary. Even within her own room, with her back pressed against the door, she could hear the soft voices of the men talking as they walked away. She bit down on her tongue, afraid if she cried they would hear her in return.

  How can Philip do this? she wondered as she slid to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest.

  Eventually, even gnawing on her tongue couldn’t keep the tears back. They rolled over her lids and down her cheeks, dropping off her chin and onto the fabric of her worn jeans. Sam shuddered as she fought to control the sobs battling their way upward. She refused to make a sound, fearful Werner would hear her through the thin walls.

  Slowly, she gained control of herself, though the tears refused to stop.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sam stalked forward, surrounded by Gallagher’s guards. To her annoyance, Gallagher had insisted she dress like his men—for her safety or some such nonsense. They had found her a smallish uniform, one which was only marginally too big for her including a cap, a pair of fairly new boots, and a small knife. The boots she didn’t mind, being that hers were falling apart, but the knife she found distasteful.

  I’m the Void, for crying out loud. What do I need a knife for? she wondered. And I definitely don’t need this fancy get up!

  Gallagher claimed she would blend in better this way, thus becoming less of a target if things went to hell in a hand-basket. Sam couldn’t convince him his enemies would be unlikely to rely on their eyes to pick her out of a crowd. She sure wouldn’t.

  Begrudgingly, she admitted the cap did hide her striking white hair, which stood out like a sore thumb in the glaring winter sunlight.

  Like the evening before, Werner continued to give her the barest courtesies as he walked two steps behind her. As they left the administration building, Gallagher reminded him again that his sole duty was to keep Sam safe, much to the enjoyment of the lieutenant colonel’s own personal security detail—consisting of at least seven heavily-armed men.

  Major Halstead and a few other officers joined the group, rounding the number up around fifteen. Sam worried they were too large for the clan leaders but, in truth, she had no idea how many fae were in the exclusive group. For all she knew there were thirty or more in the selective group.

  They crossed the street and stopped at edge of the courtyard.

  Waiting at the far end of the courtyard stood a long line of figures. Sam guessed their numbers to be about the same as the humans. She released her gift and quickly realized there were far more fae waiting in the doorways of the two large buildings walling in the courtyard.

  “Sam?” asked Gallagher.

  “They’re too far way for me to scan, but there are more of them in the doorways,” she added, discreetly pointing at the four doors in question.

  “An ambush,” suggested Werner.

  “No. I don’t think so. They’re not powered up, so to speak. I think they’re just there in case you become aggressive. There’s one healer, two fire casters of varying sorts, a… a water caster, a beast conjurer, et cetera. All fairly mundane stuff, really.”

  “Mundane?” asked Gallagher.

  “Compared to what I’ve been fighting lately…”

  The lieutenant colonel nodded. “Let’s move.”

  He made a motion and the group stepped out, moving as one, except for Sam who scrambled to get in step with everyone else. As they stepped forward, the distant group followed suit. They met in the middle, each group sizing the other up.

  Sam ran her eyes across the faces. Though she had seen them all at one time or another within the small reservation, they were not intimate friends. She could not say that about all of them though. Sam gaped at Mrs. Harmon—the mother of her once dear friend Carl. Carl had been a part of the small group who had tried to destroy the vampires during infamous massacre. He was only alive today due to Sam’s mercy, or inability to kill her own friend. She wondered how much Mrs. Harmon knew of her son’s late activities.

  More to the point, the Harmons had always appeared to be on the point of starvation. Sam had assumed the clan leaders were the elite of the fae, not those barely surviving. Then again, her father was a clan leader and they had never been wealthy like the Newberrys.

  Sam began to gnaw on her bottom lip, her entire world view of the clan leaders shaken as she dragged her eyes away from Mrs. Harmon. Mr. Newberry, her step-father, and the strange investigator Andrew McMillian were all present along with the clan leaders Sam didn’t know.

  After a short pause, Sam realized they were waiting on her to do the introductions. Sam stepped forward from her position near the back.

  “Lieutenant Colonel, may I introduce my contact, Mr. Newberry,” she said, waving at Newberry. “Mr. Newberry, this is Lieutenant Colonel Scott Gallagher, the new leader of the reservation.”

  Sam paused, unsure what else she was supposed to say. Her step-father gave a little cough. Sam looked at him before pointedly turning away.

  “And this is Major Victor Halstead. Major, Mr. Newberry. Lieutenant Colonel, Major, this is Mrs. Harmon. And of course, you remember Mr. McMillian. I’m afraid beyond these I do not know the other clan leaders. Mr. Newberry, will you do the honor of continuing the introductions.”

  An awkward pause descended on the group, as half of them knew she was lying about her step-father, though most did not understand the reasoning. Dave’s face turned red as he glared at her.

&nb
sp; “Happily, Miss Gollet. Thank you,” Mr. Newberry replied as quickly as he could, trying his best to keep the meeting moving.

  Sam stared at the ground, unable to concentrate on the rest of the introductions, though she did hear Dave’s name mentioned and feel Gallagher’s eyes on her. When the formalities were over, Gallagher spoke.

  “Let me begin by making something clear, ladies and gentlemen: the reign of Mr. Tibb’s neglect is over. I have heard from Miss Gollet how he left you to fend for yourself in the case of murders going unsolved—or anything similar. That ends now. But with that also ends the autonomy you experienced under Mr. Tibbs. With the protection you receive from us, you also must abide by our rules. That includes your investigation into these artifacts that have gone missing. I cannot have unsupervised fae poking their noses all over the reservation.”

  One of the fae raised his hand. “If I may, Colonel, our investigations has been concluded.”

  “You found them?”

  “No,” continued the fae. “We have concluded that the artifacts have been smuggled out of the reservation.”

  Sam frowned. How?

  Before she could get a word out, a sudden and frigid downdraft pummeled them until Sam thought she might crumple under its pressure. The entire group looked up to find a massive beast settling on the corner of southern building, its razor sharp claws digging into the bricks.

  “What the hell is that?” Werner yelled over the roar of the wind.

  Sam stared at the beast as the reservation’s search lights glinted off its gray scales. It raised its wings, revealing the blood-red membrane stretched between fragile-looking bones before letting out a deafening screech from its long, mobile neck. Eight legs supported its enormous body. Sam guessed the beast would stand two, if not two and half, stories tall when on the ground.

  “It’s a half-dragon,” Sam yelled back once the beast had stopped screeching.

  “What do you mean ‘half’? It looks pretty whole to me!” yelled one of the other soldiers.

  “Trust me, be glad it’s only a ‘half-dragon’.”

  “What do we do?” shouted Gallagher.

  “You get out of here,” ordered Sam. “Trust me, there’s nothing you can do against a dragon, even a half-dragon. Get out of here before you die. We got this,” Sam added, motioning toward the other fae only to realize the clan leaders were making tracks towards the northern building.

  “You’re coming too!” shouted Werner as he grabbed her arm, preparing to drag her.

  “I can’t leave it here to kill other people.”

  “I’m not leaving you to handle this by yourself.” And with that, Werner drew his weapon and fired three quick shots at the beast’s chest.

  It reared back, clinging to the building with its four back legs, shaking its head back and forth, and flapping its wings in rage at having been shot. All the same, the three bullets ricocheted off the dragon’s chest and lodged themselves into the walls of the surrounding buildings.

  Sam grabbed Werner’s arms. “No guns.” She turned to the other soldiers who had all held their ground around the lieutenant colonel. “No guns!”

  Werner blinked. In a different situation she would have laughed at his surprise. “Right. No guns,” he agreed.

  The animal screeched again and launched itself off the building, a cascade of bricks falling from the side of the building. Sam and the soldiers turned back toward the far end of the courtyard. They skidded to a halt at the end and turned back to see the beast in the air, its wings spread and another deafening screech emanating from its wide open jaw. It was a deafening sound that sent a shiver through Sam’s blood—much like nails on a chalkboard, only with teeth.

  The group took off again, ducking around the corner of the northern building where the clan leaders had taken shelter.

  “You okay?” Werner panted, grabbing Sam’s shoulders; she shrugged away from his touch.

  “You all should have left when you had the chance.”

  “So should you,” said Gallagher.

  “It’s here for me. It won’t leave ‘till I’m dead.”

  “What?” demanded Werner.

  “Dragons are used like assassins.” She took another deep breath. “They’re given a scent, a magical scent, and released to kill the person carrying that scent. They don’t stop until that person is dead. The fae who are after me conjured the dragon.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with your world!” snapped Werner, his eyes round with the same panic Sam was feeling.

  Only Sam’s panic was resulting in a strange numbness. She couldn’t see any way out of this one. Though she had never faced a dragon before, she doubted they had any innate powers for her to steal. She needed to get near the fae or mage who had summoned the beast.

  Sam frowned. How had someone managed to summon the half-dragon, or the beast from the paper mill for that matter? That sort of magic had been lost centuries ago, or at least that was the talk within the reservation.

  Well, Sam had two dangerous case studies to suggest otherwise.

  “Sam!” Werner shouted, cutting off her frightening thoughts.

  Sam suddenly realized he had been shaking her arm, trying to get her attention.

  “How can we help?”

  Her eyes grew wide with fright, and she shook her head. “There’s nothing I can do. I can’t fight that.”

  “What do you need to fight it? A distraction?”

  Sam shook her head again. “It has no powers for me to steal. It might as well just be a regular old bear.”

  “Some bear,” scoffed Halstead.

  “Where is the magic coming from, then?” Gallagher jumped in, bringing them back on point.

  “The mage that conjured it.”

  “Does he have to be nearby?”

  Sam hesitated, considering his question as chunks of concrete crumbled down around them from the façade of the wall. Werner jerked her away from the corner and shielded her with his own body. When the onslaught ceased, he cupped her cheeks in his warm, calloused hands drawing her back to the here and now.

  “Does the mage or fae have to be nearby?” Werner repeated.

  Sam nodded.

  “Good. We’ll keep it distracted as long as we can. You find that son of bitch and put him in his grave before it does the same to us.”

  Sam swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. She wanted to have a moment with him, but remembered at the last second there wasn’t anything say. It had all been said the morning before.

  The soldiers raced away, half running in one direction, half in the other.

  The dragon screeched as it caught sight of them and launched itself off the edge of building and spiraled higher, preparing to dive. Sam felt the same panic as before begin to settle on her shoulders. Her gift slammed against her tattoo, alerting her to the danger of the lethargy she had nearly succumb to once before. Sam released her gift completely, something she never did.

  It charged free, nearly as frightening as the dragon with its ferocity. Sam had never felt her fae gift take such complete control over the situation. It ranged out, passing mystics left and right as it wound its way up the northern building, spreading itself far thinner than she normally allowed it. Its total control gave Sam the ability to be aware of her surroundings.

  Outside the dubious protection of the building’s shadow, she heard the screech of the dragon and the flap of its wings, followed by a swoosh of air. More dust invaded her hiding space, stinging her eyes, as the dragon climbed higher. Sam squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the soldiers had found cover.

  Gun shot rang out as they forgot her “no guns” rule.

  As she sent out a silent prayer to the various human gods, she felt her gift settle on a mage wielding a powerful spell. Sam narrowed her focus in on what her gift was doing. It weaved itself into the distant spell, just on the borders of her range. From this distance, Sam couldn’t tell exactly what they were doing, but she had no doubt it was the spell driving the dragon
to kill.

  Sam crawled to corner of the building and snuck a peek.

  The dragon hovered over the courtyard, screeching down as it swung its head from side to side to get a better look at the various soldiers firing at it. Thankfully, the soldiers were smart enough to aim at the delicate membranes stretched across the bones of the wings.

  Sam bolted from her hiding place, putting all her feeble strength into her legs, willing them to pump faster. But unlike magic, willpower had little effect on how fast her legs moved. The fact remained that she was malnourished from years of living within the Res and she never worked out. The results were rather pitiful.

  She had barely made it a few steps beyond the cover of the building when her guttural breathing drew the attention of the half-dragon away from soldiers. The dragon turned its steely gaze on her racing form. Sam felt her chest tighten in panic as the dragon shrieked at her.

  She turned her eyes on her target—the front door to the apartment complex positioned in the middle of the long building. Sam slid into the door, much like she had seen baseball players slide into bases on the rare occasions that they projected a Chicago baseball game in the courtyard.

  What’s the name of the Chicago team? she absently wondered as she tried to ignore the painful burning sensation running up her leg as she collided with the door. Does the sand burn the players like pavement? was her next thought. What a gyp!

  Sam scrambled to her feet and flung the door open, lunging into the open space just as the dragon landed against the door, its claws gouging into the ground and building. It bit into the doorway, taking out the opening. Sam sprung forward, plowing into a wall of bodies. Sam looked up to find the clan leaders staring down at her. They looked up as Sam rolled over just in time to see the half-dragon tear away the doorway, bricks and mortar tumbling away around its mighty jaws.

  “I see you guys are making yourself useful,” she said as she scrambled to her feet.

  Sam didn’t wait for a response. She pushed through their cluster and raced to the nearest staircase. Her gift raced outward on its own, scanning the area ahead of her.

  In the back of her mind, Sam worried over the freedom her gift seemed to have acquired without her even realizing it. When all this was over, would she be able to regain control of the little demon living within her?