Author: T.R. Cameron
Date: 2023-05-19T07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Urban Fantasy
Description: Aisling Keane is an Investigator with the secretive spy organization known as Dragonfly. Thrust unexpectedly into the field, she and her mechanical Dragon partner are surrounded by danger and intrigue. Aisling thought she’d been hired to be a secret agent – then found that Dragonfly required new recruits, even skilled witches like her, to prove themselves. One clue leads to the next, and she’s assigned to work with Lance Stone on a mission. Small crimes herald larger ones, and the larger ones suggest a mysterious organization lurking in the shadows. When an ally turns into an enemy, Dragonfly
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Rights: Copyright 2023 TR Cameron. All rights reserved.

THE SPY WHO TAMED A DRAGON

SECRET AGENT WITCH™ BOOK 1

TR CAMERON

MARTHA CARR

MICHAEL ANDERLE

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Version 1.00, May 2023
ebook ISBN: 979-8-88878-244-6

Print ISBN: 979-8-88878-390-0

The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-23 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.

THE SPY WHO TAMED A DRAGON TEAM

Thanks to our Beta Readers:

Billie Leigh Kellar, Mary Morris

Thanks to our JIT Readers:

Dorothy Lloyd

Christopher Gilliard

Dave Hicks

Wendy L Bonell

Peter Manis

Jeff Goode

Diane L. Smith

Jan Hunnicutt

Editor

SkyFyre Editing Team

DEDICATION

For those who seek wonder around every corner and in each turning page. Thank you choosing to share the adventure with me. And, as always, for Dylan and Laurel, my reasons for existing.

— TR Cameron

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Author Notes - TR Cameron

Author Notes - Martha Carr

Other series From T.R. Cameron

Other series in the Oriceran Universe:

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Books By Michael Anderle

CHAPTER ONE

Aisling Keane walked through Victoria Square in Birmingham, England, with a smile at the locals and tourists already populating it at this early hour. The summer day ahead promised to be a beautiful one, and the square was always packed on such occasions. She, unfortunately, was headed to work. While her job was enjoyable most days, the idea of staying out in the sun and relaxing also had its appeal.

Her destination, the Birmingham Council House, lay in front of her. The Victorian building’s outer skin was a brown that seemed like dusky gold when the sun hit it properly. It was liberally adorned with carvings and topped with a domed spire over the entrance section.

Although her organization wasn’t an officially recognized part of the Council House, she and her coworkers were encouraged to dress like the council staff so as not to cause any consternation among the tourists. Aisling had on black slacks with a bright red blouse tucked in and low heels. She passed through the entry doors and the initial layer of guards nodded in acknowledgment of the identification pass she wore on a lanyard around her neck.

The credential didn’t exempt her from the series of detectors hidden in the lobby’s ornamental archway. They scanned for explosives, magic, and metal large enough to be a weapon. The silver stud earrings in her ears, which, with a touch of magic, would connect her by voice to her sister Cait in Boston, didn’t set it off. Neither did the more fashionable ones dangling below them.

The five rings adorning the fingers of her right hand were polished enough to almost look like metal, but were, in fact, wood. A Dwarven craftsperson had converted the wand that allowed her to use her magic into a tool more appropriate to her technomancy skills, which involved blending magic and technology and often required precision a standard wand couldn’t provide. Her coven’s magic teacher, Sashura, suspected the conversion lessened the power she was able to channel through them, but Aisling had discovered no evidence either way. Her sisters used bracelets instead, and as far as she could tell, it hadn’t seemed to hamper them.

She turned right after reaching the lobby, then walked through several public corridors before reaching a door marked “STAFF.” It gave her access to what she thought of as the “backstage” area of the Council House, and she exchanged greetings with people along the way. Her route took her over the bridge that led to the art gallery extension, referred to by many as a “new” addition to the place even though it had been added over a century before. Her access to her magic faded as she entered the gallery’s anti-magic field.

Aisling passed through several rooms of the gallery before again passing through a staff door. The circular staircase beyond it took her down to the underground section of the building. That portion of the Council House had been added in secret, disguised by the work above, and held the main headquarters of the secretive group known as Dragonfly.

She exited at her level and stepped through a door into a small chamber. It held only another door with a modest plaque set beside it. Every floor she’d visited in the facility had the same one. They all read, “Deception without and truth within.”

The reference was to the organization’s creation, an alliance of several countries that professed neutrality during World War I but actually worked covertly against the Germans and their allies. The initial group included Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, and Spain. It expanded over the years to include several more countries and now numbered twelve, including Aisling's own country, Ireland. Dragonfly was dedicated to addressing intelligence and criminal issues of international significance that the larger agencies ignored.

She pressed her badge against the plaque, and the door before her unlocked. After she stepped through, a transparent wall of thick plastic snapped down from the ceiling to block retreat in what they commonly referred to as the “airlock.” She uttered her personal password for the voice analysis, a line from a raucous Irish song, “Shillelagh law was all the rage,” and waited while the AI that oversaw HQ security checked her height, weight, body outline, and retinal pattern against its records. When the system was satisfied of her identity, the wall in front of her opened, and she walked toward her workspace.

Aisling breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the large room and her magic returned to her. Dragonfly personnel included a mix of magical and non-magical, and thus, certain regions had to be protected from the influence of the anti-magic emitters for the magicals to do their work.

The space held four work areas, each consisting of a rib-high, eight-foot-long white plastic workbench with a high rolling chair in front of it. Drawers under the table on both sides of the seat held tools and materials. General illumination came down from incandescent lights above, but each workbench also had adjustable task lighting. This was the place where those who worked with physical object analysis did their thing. She was currently the only magical in the Investigation unit, though she wasn’t the first magical to be part of the organization.

It was rare for all four workbenches to be filled at once, as Dragonfly was a two-shift operation. Aisling worked early, as was her preference. She imagined the other woman in the room, Victoria Watson, probably would’ve preferred the later shift based on her rather active social life, but Aisling was glad that it had turned out like this instead.

Vicki turned at her entrance and gave her a grin. “Hello, Aisling.”

She smiled at her coworker. Victoria had long blonde hair and eyes so bright blue that they seemed to sparkle. She was tall and slender and never suffered for attention while out socializing, which gave her a steady pool of interested parties to pry secrets from. “You look beautiful today.” She wore a simple red dress that looked stunning on her, and a pair of impractical black heels.

“I have a lunch date. Someone I met last night.”

Aisling laughed as she climbed into her seat. “Go ahead. I know you’re dying to tell me.”

Victoria swiveled to face her fully. “It was nothing big. I went out to a local pub and got myself invited to join a table with four guys out for drinks. I did my usual magic, getting them to talk about themselves. Well, my kind of magic, not your sort.”

“And then you used every fact they revealed to get them to share more.”

Victoria laughed. “Have to keep those investigator skills sharp, right?” Each of the four people who worked in this area was officially an investigator in the nomenclature of the organization. In practice, that meant they spent most of their time at headquarters reviewing evidence gathered by agents or examining objects brought back from the field. It wasn’t quite what Aisling had envisioned when Annika Lind had recruited her for Dragonfly, but she’d come to believe in the mission of the organization and understand that every role was vital.

Aisling shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Victoria lifted her shoulders in a dismissive shrug. “It’s easy. You listen long enough to figure them out, then push on their weak spots.”

Aisling swung her chair around and gave the commands to call up her workspace. A holographic display grew into being above the workbench, and she arranged the virtual panels with gestures to create an open space in the middle to manipulate the day’s research object. “You should definitely be a field agent.”

Victoria’s laugh was infectious. “Not my cup of tea, love. I like it in here where it’s safe.”

“Boring.”

“Not at all. If you had a social life, you’d enjoy the respite of being in the office, too.”

Aisling snorted. “No thanks.” When the space was arranged to her liking, she called up her files on a device that had been found at the site of a terrorist attack in Germany. Part of it was charred, but almost two-thirds of the object remained intact. The field agents hadn’t been able to figure out what it was, which was why it had landed on her desk.

She’d spent the previous workday cleaning the item with precision an archaeologist would envy. One of the drawers beside her legs was filled with brushes from large to almost microscopic, and she’d used most of them in the process, along with a cleaning agent she’d created shortly after being hired that was now favored by the whole team.

After tapping in a code to unlock the top drawer on her left, Aisling lifted the object out of its secure storage and set it on the table. Data filled the floating, semi-transparent screens as the sensing tools built into the worktable’s surface got to work on it. She scanned the information to satisfy herself that nothing had changed from the day before. A verbal command and a gesture summoned a new panel with a magnified view of the object directly above it. She used her magic to lift and turn the damaged sphere to allow her eyes to get a good look at it and the system to map it from every angle.

Aisling had done the same thing at the end of her last session, but her work was all about precision, and the first step in being precise was avoiding assumptions. It wasn’t impossible that the object might have degraded in the interval between examinations. She locked off a portion of her mind to keep the item in the air and made a series of intricate gestures. An eyedropper filled with a particular reagent floated over, and she watched in the magnified view as drops of liquid hit the surface.

It revealed nothing. “This thing’s not made of anything that can combine to explode, so it probably wasn’t part of the detonation. It’s weird that it seemed to have an empty space in the middle.”

“Maybe what was inside was gas or liquid and leaked out?” Victoria offered.

Aisling frowned. “A biological weapon, you mean?”

“Not necessarily. Could be something more like a marker, maybe.”

“Hmm.” Aisling whispered a spell under her breath. “Magic to hurt, magic to heal; all magic present, now reveal.” Her fingers twisted in the appropriate gesture and her magic combined the words, the motions, and her intent to examine the object magically. She had several spells for doing so, and thought of them almost like lenses on a microscope. This one was designed to show traces of magic, some kinds of which left a detectable residue behind. It rhymed because that made it easy to remember, although the words were more about channeling her thoughts in the proper direction than actually invoking the magic.

A spot on the device began to glow, and a moment later the brightness shot out in all directions. Soon the interior of the broken sphere was covered with what looked like circuitry but was in fact evidence of magic. She nodded in approval. “Magical circuits in addition to physical ones. Whatever this is, they really wanted it to work.”

Before she could consider the item further, the door to the workshop area slid open. She turned to see a man with short brown hair, handsome features that gave a sense of boyishness, and a frown. His suit was off the rack, and he moved in it like he wore them all the time. An American accent hit her ears and confirmed her initial guess that he was agent Lance Stone. He growled, “I need an investigator right now.”

Before Aisling could reply, Victoria said, “Your turn, Aisling.”

She spun on her chair to scowl at her colleague. “It’s always my turn. How does that work out?”

A grin spread across the other woman’s painted lips. “You like the outside. I, on the other hand, do not. Go. I’ll put that away.”

Aisling rolled her eyes. In her experience, Victoria liked the outside just fine, but only if it led to an inside where she could practice her manipulations on others. She slid off her stool, pulled out the backpack stored under her table, and shrugged it on as she walked over to the agent. “Okay. Where are we going?”

“Crime scene. Scotland.”

“I love men in kilts. Lead on.”

CHAPTER TWO

Aisling reached for the calm center of her being, as Sashura described it, to hold down her excitement as she followed Lance down three levels to the transport room. A magical was available at all times in that chamber, which was logically free of anti-magic emitters or interference. As they entered, the wizard waved his wand in a circle and a portal opened inside the space he’d traced. He stepped out of the way, and Lance walked through the rift. She hustled to keep up.

Crossing the threshold took them into an apartment. Sunlight streamed in through a pair of windows to land on a couch, a loveseat, and a television in the corner. The place was simple, clean, and had the feeling of inhabitation. “What is this?” she asked.

Lance crossed to a closed door. “Listening post.” A small picture of an ornate key hung beside it, and he pushed it up from the bottom. It slid up on thin tracks to reveal a number pad. Lance punched in a code, and the door opened. Aisling noted as she passed that it was set in a heavy frame and that the door itself was thicker than usual.

The space beyond was mostly dark. A single window provided some illumination in the spots where its blackout shade was askew. A rack of electronic equipment occupied a corner of the far wall, and a desk with a computer was positioned on the same side as their entryway. She judged the room to be about ten feet by fifteen, which normally would be a decent size. However, it was made claustrophobic by the two of them, the man standing by the room’s other door, and the pair of bodies on the floor.

Lance snapped, “Details.”

“I found them like this when I came in to relieve Mary.” The unknown man explained. He gestured at the woman in the center of the room, who bore no obvious traces of violence. She could have been asleep if not for her extreme paleness and the unnatural stillness of her body. “I don’t know him. When I called it in, they said he’s an agent.” The man’s voice broke slightly as he clarified, “Was an agent.”

Lance spoke with a touch of regret in his tone. “Yeah. He was a decent guy. Lousy ending to his story.” His voice hardened back to pure professionalism. “What were you watching over?”

“Don’t know what he was here for. Mary and I were assigned to keep an eye on a local organization an informant pointed us to. The source said they plan to hack into a bank.”

Aisling frowned. “Why is that our issue?”

The man made a choked sound that might have been an attempt at a laugh. He was likely still in shock. “Because the informant found them through an anarchist discussion board on the dark web.”

Her eyes widened at the unexpected answer. “That’ll do it.”

He managed to get a dark chuckle out this time. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Thanks for your help, you’ve been perfect,” Lance told him. “Now, please step outside and watch the door.” The man seemed grateful as he complied.

Lance turned to Aisling and requested, “Do your thing, investigator.”

“The name’s Aisling,” she reminded him.

“I know.” He turned away and headed to the window. Fine, be a jerk, then. She went first to the agent who’d been shot. The red splotch on the wall behind him was grisly, and she looked at it long enough to be sure it showed nothing strange. She knelt beside the body, which had fallen as if the man had simply sat with his legs in an awkward position. She noted the bullet hole in his forehead, then concerned herself with things below the neck. A pistol with a silencer threaded on it lay near his hand. She leaned down and sniffed it. “Doesn’t look like he got a shot off.”

Lance grunted. “He’s competent. The attack must have been a surprise.” She coated her fingers with force magic to avoid disturbing the scene by adding her fingerprints and searched the pockets of his dress shirt, his suit coat, and his trousers. Finding nothing, she tried his socks and shoes as well, on a hunch that didn’t pan out. “His pockets are empty,” she reported.

“Does he still have his watch?”

Aisling checked. “No.”

“I’ll call in and see if headquarters can track it. You keep doing what you’re doing.”

She moved over to the woman. Her blouse had come untucked, and a silver necklace lay against her jaw, perhaps signaling that she’d fallen, although the calm posture of her body argued against that. Her skirt had bunched up a little, and Aisling brushed it to straighten it out. She looked down at the woman’s face, which was framed with lustrous black hair. She’s probably not more than a few years older than me. Like Lance said, lousy way for a story to end.

Aisling leaned in close to the body and examined the face, the neck, and the bare arms and legs. She didn’t find any obvious injuries or needle marks. She moved to the side and knelt, then shifted back on her heels. “Any luck?” she asked Lance when he was done with his call.

“Nothing. Whoever took it must have destroyed it. It’s not giving off a signal.”

“Or they put it in a signal blocker. If they knew enough to take it, could they have known he was an agent?”

Lance turned away from the window and stared at her. “Possibly. What’s the deal with her?”

“Unsure. I don’t see any physical cause of death.”

“So, magic?” he asked.

“Let’s find out.” Aisling stood, moved to the side of the room, took off her backpack, and set it on the floor. “Move that chair, will you? I need a few feet of clear space around her.”

Lance did so without complaint, which knocked her opinion of him up a notch. She extracted a vial of powdered silver from her kit and drew a circle around the body at the center.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Aisling continued working as she explained. “Silver is one of the metals that interferes with magic. It can be used as a barrier to keep internal magics from escaping or external magics from penetrating. I’m more concerned with the latter at the moment since I’m not using complex magic, but the other doesn’t hurt, either.”

When she was done, she moved her backpack inside the circle and set it beside the woman’s hip. She’d left enough room for her to kneel beside it. “I’m about to begin. Please don’t cross the line.”

He laughed. “Or what, I’ll vanish in a poof of smoke?”

She looked up at him, hoping he would see her opinion of the stupid question in her eyes. “No, but you’ll screw up my spell, which would be equal parts unprofessional and idiotic.”

He raised his hands. “I’ll be in the corner talking to the infomancers back at the base about surveillance.”

“Good plan.” She closed her eyes and extended her magical senses. They found the ring of silver, and she spoke a word to activate its protective properties. “Connigh.” Her perception of the world shrunk as the spell blocked out everything beyond its border. Aisling took a deep breath to focus her mind, then amplified her sense of smell, which often provided clues, especially where poisons might have been applied.

When that detected nothing, she magnified her vision and searched the body once more, this time pulling the woman’s top up to expose her stomach and raising her skirt several inches to examine her thighs. Again, no cause presented itself. If someone had injected her by surprise, it wasn’t evident in any of the likely places.

“Probably not physical damage caused by physical means,” she muttered.

Force magic would have left marks on the body and likely broken bones. Fire magic would’ve been obvious, as would have frost, unless it had been wielded with exceptionally deft ability. And she’d never seen lightning kill without leaving burns behind, so that was unlikely as well.

Which left shadow.

Aisling couldn’t suppress the slight shudder the thought inspired. Her coven didn’t practice shadow magic. It was viewed as unclean at best, evil and soul-damaging at worst. While she didn’t fully buy into those definitions, she hadn’t broken custom to train with it, so it was unfamiliar. And in this kind of situation, the unfamiliar was always daunting.

She knew several spells that might reveal shadow magic. She was the most bookish of her family, even counting their mother, who was the leader of the coven. Aisling had made a project of finding the coven’s records of magic, which had included many forgotten spells from the past, including those dealing with shadow magic. She chose the simplest and spoke the words in a whisper while envisioning her intent and tracing the necessary symbol on the woman’s arm with her ring-covered fingers. “From deepest night and cruelest dark slithers the shadow, but it cannot hide from the light of our power.”

A glow started at her hand and moved across the body. It triggered a momentary remembrance of the way the magical circuits had appeared on the object she’d examined earlier. The yellow-white markings were stained with a sick-looking purple tint at the woman’s head and heart. Purple spread from there outward, growing fainter the farther away it got. It was incontrovertible evidence that she’d been killed with shadow magic, as the residue was too strong for the attack to have been anything short of lethal.

Aisling released the spell and banished the circle. “She was killed by a magical.”

“Can you get anything about who did it?”

She considered the question. “Maybe. But I doubt it.” And, since it would involve interacting with the shadow-magic-tainted body, she’d prefer not to try.

Lance crouched to look at her from eye level. “Whatever you can do would help.”

She nodded. I think I liked you better as a jerk. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”

CHAPTER THREE

Aisling dug into her backpack again and pulled out a compass. It was a fairly expensive model to begin with but was now unique and priceless after she’d replaced all metal that interfered with magic. She closed her eyes to gather her power, then extended her awareness to include both the compass and the body in front of her.

This required a different level of immersion than simply detecting the magic. The best description she’d ever come up with was that she needed to taste the magic with her power. The notion sent another quiver of nausea through her stomach. Touching another’s magic in such an intimate way was uncomfortable in most circumstances, but the fact that it was shadow tripled her worries.

Knock it off, Aisling. You have a job to do. Try not to look like an idiot in front of the handsome but annoying secret agent.

With a quiet laugh at her self-mockery, Aisling whispered the spell, “Stone and sea, Earth and air, find the source of this power and show me where.” It used her power as a bridge to connect the magic remaining on the woman’s body to the compass. It took several minutes to fully immerse the tool in the magical residue. When it was ready, she opened her eyes and spoke the activation word for the compass. “Nocht.”

The needle immediately spun to face the window, causing her to jolt in surprise. She turned ninety degrees, but the arrow stayed immobile, pointing at the shade that now admitted a little more sunlight from where Lance had moved it. She stood, put her finger to her lips, and waved for him to come over.

She whispered, “Whoever cast the magic is outside that window. Nearby.”

His head snapped around to look in that direction, then he swiveled it back to her and mouthed, “You sure?”

She shifted her eyes down to the compass to lead his gaze there. “Yes.” The needle twitched and started to tremble. “The killer might be moving.” Lance motioned for her to stay put, then tapped his ear and went out into the living room. She knelt and pulled the case containing her own communicator earplug from the bag. Her inner voice chided her for not having inserted it earlier. She slipped it in and shivered at the weird way it expanded to fill her ear canal while still allowing external sound to penetrate.

A voice she recognized as Oliver Overby, one of Dragonfly’s infomancers, was saying, “Yeah, there’s one on the roof.”

“Good. Send it up,” Lance instructed.

She shoved all her tools except the compass into her backpack and slid it on as she walked into the living room. Lance was standing with his back to the windows, and she moved to stand beside him. In her ear, Oliver announced, “Diagnostics complete. Lifting off.”

A moment later, the compass needle started to twitch more violently than before. She hissed, “Target is definitely moving.”

Oliver snarled, “Yeah. I see him. He’s on the run. Roof of the building across from you.”

Lance burst into motion toward the door that led out of the apartment, yanked it open, and sped out into the hallway. “Keep the target in sight,” he snapped. “I’m on my way. Need you to guide me in.”

Aisling paused, trapped in a moment of indecision. She was an investigator, and she’d done her job. Following Lance would probably be more than she was expected, or possibly even permitted, to do. While the rational portion of her brain mulled that idea over, the instinctive part propelled her into action. She spun, pulled her right hand back, and slammed it out like a punch. A burst of force shot out of it, growing in size as it flew, and crashed into the window.

The top and bottom panes, the frame that connected them, and the curtain that had partially covered the window flew out into the air. A strong breeze wafted into the room. She moved closer and peered out. The building across the street was a couple of stories lower than the one she was in. The facade was a classical design with wide ledges jutting out every two floors and decorated finials protruding from blocks at symmetrical intervals.

Aisling had backed up and was already running before she consciously realized what she was about to do. When she reached the edge, she slammed a burst of force magic into the floor to propel her up and out through the space left behind by the demolished window. Her legs moved like she was running on the ground as she soared above the four-lane street below.

Her flight arced down more acutely than she’d expected, and she realized she wasn’t going to reach the opposite roof. As she started to fall in earnest, she whipped out a line of force and guided it to wrap around a protruding gargoyle head. She gripped it with both hands as it swung her into the building. With all her magic tied up in keeping the line attached, she was unable to clear her path.

Aisling crashed through a window in a shower of glass and splintered wood and landed on her back in a dining room. She pushed herself up with a groan as a man ran into the room, shouting. She dashed for the doorway, calling back, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Into her earpiece, she shouted, “Double O, where do I go?”

“I’ll put a map on your lens.”

She growled, “I’m an investigator, not an agent.” Field people had high-tech contact lenses that provided all sorts of conveniences. A stairwell was visible at the far end of the corridor, and she dashed toward it.

“Okay,” Oliver replied. “When you reach the top, head north. He’s currently two buildings away.”

She broke out into the sunlight and heard Lance ask, “Can you shoot him?”

“Unarmed drone,” Oliver came back.

“Try to get a picture of his face, then, in case he gets away.”

“He’s playing with us,” Aisling suggested. “If he’s the magical that killed the woman, he should have portaled by now.”

Lance’s breathing was audible as he ran. “Why do you think he hasn’t?” He answered his own question a moment later when the sound of gunfire came over the comm. “Because it’s a trap. I’m surrounded.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Turn right, run to the end of the roof,” Oliver instructed. “He’s in the alley between the buildings.”

Aisling reached the edge and looked down. Her vantage revealed three men in front of the agent and two coming up behind him, all with guns in their hands. Lance was sheltered between a pair of dumpsters.

She was sure he’d shoot anyone who got near him, but he could only be carrying so much ammunition, so eventually they’d have him.

“When I land, take the pair in back,” she told him.

“What?” His voice was filled with disbelief.

“Less talking, more obeying.” She jumped off the edge in a short arc that carried her to the middle of the alley. Her descent was silent until she blasted force magic into the ground to break her landing, which caused the nearby dumpsters to rock and squeal. She went down on one knee, then rocketed forward from that position toward the nearest enemy.

The ambushers were shocked, as one would be when a woman dropped out of the sky in front of them. Their guns wavered before they came back into line with her, which gave her all the time she needed. The first enemy was ahead to her left, partially covered from Lance’s position in a doorway. The second was ahead to her right, using another dumpster as cover.

He’d frozen at the sight of her, and she reached out with her telekinesis to yank the gun from his hand as she leapt at the one standing in front of the door. Her knees came up high and her feet snapped out to connect with his chest. The impact channeled her strength and momentum straight into him and propelled him through the closed door as the latch failed.

Aisling landed awkwardly and rolled into a backward somersault. Bullets passed over her that likely would have missed anyway. Her roll brought her to her feet, and she slammed force magic into the dumpster in front of her. It rocketed away and smashed into the weaponless enemy hiding behind it. He went down with a shout of pain.

The final one pointed his pistol at her, but she reached out and ripped it out of his hand with her telekinesis, then threw it at his face with the same magic. He dropped without a sound, out cold. A final gunshot rang out behind her, and she realized she’d been hearing others while she dealt with her targets. Lance said, “One ran. Going after him.”

Aisling began to say that she’d join him when the sense of impending danger she’d always possessed shot alarm through her. She covered herself in force shields and dove to the side as lightning cascaded all around her. She rose quickly and spun to see a figure float gently down to the alley’s surface. He was tall and thin, with pointed ears, dressed in black tactical clothes. Some kind of elf, and not afraid to show it.

She pulled out the compass, saw that it was pointing directly toward him, and tucked it back in her pocket.

“Sneak attack. Pretty weak, bro. But apparently your modus operandi.”

He laughed and shook his head. His short blond hair, which stuck up in all directions from his scalp, didn’t move at all. “All’s fair in love and war, as they say.”

“Wait. Are you asking me out?”

“No, it’s the other one.”

Aisling rolled her eyes. “Listen, friend, beating you will barely make me sweat. How about instead of doing that, we go someplace we can have a little chat?”

“I am deeply intimidated by your implication, but I’m afraid I must decline.”

She reached out with her telekinesis and summoned a gun from the alley floor. It leapt into her hand, and she leveled it at his face. “How about now?”

The elf shrugged. “Still not worried.” She pointed it at his chest and pulled the trigger. A bullet shot out and slammed into his own invisible force shield.

Aisling tossed the gun aside. “Lame. You’re not even professional enough to have anti-magic ammunition?”

He laughed. “You know, I kind of like you. But sadly, you’re in my way. Bye-bye.”

He gestured and suddenly she was flying upward as his magic grabbed and lifted the bricks underneath her. She reinforced her shields and leapt off, using force magic against the walls to control her descent. The bricks flew at her head, but she angled a shield above her to deflect them. Her hands itched for her swords, but it would’ve been strange to wear them in her investigator role, so they were still at home.

Aisling dispatched electricity at him, but the attack failed to penetrate his shields. He threw shadow out at her, and she put all of her magic energy into resisting it. After several seconds of that impasse, he released that assault and threw a dumpster at her. She instinctively calculated its trajectory as it sailed toward her face and realized he’d given her an opening.

She fell to the ground and rolled quickly. It passed over her. If the huge metal object had been flying lengthwise at her, he could’ve dropped it in response to her move, and she thanked the universe for the piece of luck that sent it wide-side on. That gave her the opportunity to weave an offensive spell into her defense. She reached out with her telekinesis, grabbed a fallen brick that had landed at the far end of the alley, and whipped it forward.

Her opponent had shields wrapped all the way around him, so when it struck the back of his head, it didn’t render him immediately unconscious. It did break his concentration, which allowed her to get close when she regained her feet. She launched a flurry of punches and kicks while he was dazed, and though he managed to reinforce his shields to block several of her magically assisted attacks, one eventually got through.

Aisling's elbow slammed into his temple, and he wobbled. She sensed his protection fall away and blasted him with lightning, which dropped him to the alley floor. She kept it up until his eyes rolled back in his head, then she placed bands of force around his legs, arms, and torso to keep him from casting. Another went over his mouth to muffle his ability to speak. Then she levitated him and carried him toward the street.

Lance ran up to her, panting. “Lost him.” Then he saw what was floating behind her. “Well done, investigator. How did you do it?”

She shrugged. “Hit him in the back of the head with a magically thrown brick.”

The agent laughed. “Nice tactic.”

Aisling grinned. “Learned it protecting myself from my sisters. They fight dirty.”

CHAPTER FOUR

After the adventure of the day before, Aisling found the return to normalcy very strange. She pulled up her screens, placed the sphere on her worktable, and got to work. It was difficult to pick up the threads of her investigation.

She had just fallen into a groove when her display pinged. She hit the connect button and the image of Sophie Girard, Franz Keller’s secretary, appeared on the screen. The woman was in her forties, with perfect makeup and curly red hair. Her stern expression seemed out of place on her otherwise pleasant features. In a voice that exuded quiet professionalism, she said, “Director Keller would like to see you.”

Aisling's stomach clenched. She’d never been called into the boss’s office before. In fact, she’d never met him. “When?”

The other woman raised a perfect eyebrow. “Immediately, of course.”

Get your brain in gear, Aisling. “Be right there.”

The window closed and Victoria laughed from behind her. “Good luck in the Dragon’s lair.”

Aisling stood and brushed off her clothes as if doing so would make them more formal for the meeting to come. “Have you been there?”

Victoria snorted. “Of course not. The big boss has no use for lowly investigators like me. But now you’re one of the fancy people.”

Aisling headed toward the exit. “Oh yeah, so very fancy.”

“Good luck,” Victoria called. “Don’t let him breathe fire on you.”

As she jogged up the stairs toward the main level of the Council House, Aisling mentally reviewed what she knew about the man she was going to see. Franz Keller was the head of Dragonfly, frequently referred to as the Dragon for logical reasons. She had heard he was Swiss and knew he’d been an agent prior to moving up to the pinnacle of the organization.

He’d worked his way up the hierarchy by showing mastery of each role he undertook. By all accounts, Keller was a good leader and manager. She’d never heard anything negative about him, other than jokes about his draconian ferocity, but she hadn’t really talked to anyone who was in his orbit. When she’d asked Annika, her recruiter and the person in charge of several units including investigation, the other woman had simply smiled. “He’s competent and not to be crossed.” So, basically a dragon for real. Got it.

When she reached the main floor, Aisling crossed the gallery, which was filled with groups of people admiring the artwork, and passed through another door marked “Staff.” The staircase beyond it took her up two more levels to another airlock. Once that process was complete, she walked down a short hallway and opened the door to Sophie’s domain.

Two walls had windows, and the woman’s desk was positioned beside the only other door out of the room, which presumably led to Keller’s lair.

“Your promptness is appreciated,” Sophie greeted her. “You can go right in.” Now that she could see more than the other woman’s head and shoulders, Aisling had to smile at the flowy flowered dress she was wearing.

In a voice slightly above a whisper, Aisling asked, “I’ve never met him. Anything I should know?”

The woman smiled. “Don’t let him intimidate you. If you do, he won’t respect you, and things are always better if he does.”

Aisling swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay. Thank you.” She proceeded toward the door and a buzzing sound accompanied the click of locks retracting. She opened it and walked through. The space beyond was beautiful. Three of the four walls were entirely windows, allowing the bright sun in to cast everything in its best light.

Low pieces of furniture were positioned along the remaining wall, and on the walls themselves were pictures on top of notable politicians accompanied by the man who sat behind the large, polished wooden desk. His face was sturdy and strong-jawed, like it had been carved from stone, although it showed the wrinkles of a man in his fifties. The deep-set blue eyes were icy above his serious expression. His suit had to have cost a lot, as it fit him perfectly.

She stopped halfway across the room. “Mr. Keller, it’s an honor.”

He nodded and gestured to the right. “Likewise. I’ve heard good things about you. Please sit.” When she moved to the chair he’d indicated, she noticed another person was present. Lance sat on the opposite side of the seating arrangement. His smirk suggested he knew she hadn’t seen him and that he’d expected it to happen. Well, it’s not every day you meet someone whose nickname is the Dragon. I can probably be excused for losing my sense of awareness a little.

“Lance, your briefing,” Keller requested.

The agent nodded and straightened slightly as he began to speak. “The interrogators spent the night working on our captive. He claims he wasn’t very far inside the organization, and our people believe him.” Aisling kept the frown from appearing on her face. It was the first time she’d heard official confirmation that the interrogation unit existed, although it made logical sense, and the rumor mill had already had her mostly convinced. She couldn’t imagine what sort of person would make that profession their life’s work.

The agent continued, “He’s muscle, not brains, but not bottom-level like I’m guessing the gunmen were. Figure he’s middle management, maybe. Definitely the leader of the team that came after me.”

Keller nodded, a small frown indicating his opinion of the man they’d captured. “What was his objective?”

“According to him, the goal of hitting the listening post was simply to eliminate it. They had discovered they were being watched and didn’t want that to continue. However, he claims they weren’t aware it was us.”

Aisling jumped in. “Or so he says. Did the woman he killed know who she was working for?”

Keller swiveled his hard eyes to her. “Yes.”

She nodded. “So, it’s entirely possible he knows who we are now, at least, and passed that on to others.”

Lance shook his head. “Our people are good. They would’ve dug it out of him.”

Aisling lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “He’s a magical. Magic can be used in as many ways as there are practitioners. I wouldn’t be positive you’ve gotten the whole truth out of him.”

Keller drummed his fingers on his desk. “Are you saying you would know how to hold back information if you were under questioning, or how he might hide it?”

Now it was her turn to shrug. “No. I’m only saying many things are possible with magic. And even if you’ve got him in a place where magic won’t work right now, he could have done it before. Erased his memories or something. I’m well versed in several varieties of magic, but we discover new spells and abilities all the time.”

Keller nodded. “That’s one of the reasons we’ve made it a priority to hire people like you, Ms. Keane.” He turned his attention to the agent. “Lance, go and work with the interrogators. Take another run at this guy. See what you can find. Mention the magic angle to them even though they have probably already considered it. Redundancy never hurts.”

The agent, apparently recognizing the order as a dismissal, stood. “Will do, sir.”

Aisling stood as well.

Keller added, “While you’re doing that, I’ll have our infomancy unit dig deeper as well. Thank you both for coming.”

Back in the front office, Lance smiled down at the secretary. “Sophie, what would you say to a vacation? You and me, Aruba, sand, sun. You wouldn’t need to pack anything other than bikinis. We could go tonight.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

Aisling tapped Lance on the arm, and he turned in her direction. “Why was I part of that meeting?”

He smiled, showing perfect teeth. “You did nice work in Scotland, Aisling. I wanted to keep you in the loop. I’ll make a field agent out of you in no time.”

She laughed. “I’m just an investigator.”

His voice registered sincerity when he replied, “And I was just a handler. And then suddenly, I wasn’t. Who knows what the future might hold?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Aisling had spent the rest of the day after meeting with Keller waiting to hear more information on the man they’d captured, but none had come. She arrived Friday, having put it mostly out of her mind, and passed the morning working on the device, running tests with both science and magic to make sure she had every possible piece of data about it.

Victoria breezed in a half-hour late, yawning.

“Sooooo…” Aisling began but didn’t get to continue.

Victoria raised a hand and declared, “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” She sat at her desk with a loud groan. “My head feels like my brain is trying to seep out.”

Aisling laughed. “So, fun social event, then?”

Victoria nodded. “So much fun. You totally should’ve come along.”

Aisling had declined the invitation, and if she was honest with herself, had done so for really no reason at all. Inertia, maybe. Victoria straightened and looked over at Aisling's workstation. “So, what did you decide that thing was?”

“I’m pretty sure it was a surveillance device.”

Her colleague frowned. “Then what was the purpose of that empty part in the middle?”

She shrugged. “I think your opinion is as likely as anything. It was a trap. Some kind of gas in there to incapacitate or kill anyone who tampered with it. Whatever did the damage to its shell let it escape.”

“So it definitely didn’t contribute to the explosion.”

“Nope.”

“How unexciting. Tell you what, I’ll take you to an early lunch. Finish that up and we’ll go at eleven.”

It took Aisling an hour to enter that data into a draft report for the AI that ran the headquarters, amusingly named Knight.

They wandered several blocks away to a German restaurant they both liked. Aisling's plate came loaded with potato pancakes, applesauce, sauerkraut, spätzle, and a pair of sausages, and Victoria chose a pork chop and sauerkraut.

Aisling took a drink of her cold tea. “So, are you going to tell me anything at all?”

Victoria tapped a long fingernail on the table. “I think I might have a boyfriend.”

“Really?”

“We’ll see. But the signs are promising.”

“Wow. That is… unexpected.”

Victoria laughed. “For everyone involved, believe me.” The conversation turned to details as they ate, and they returned to the office right on time for their twelve-thirty appointment. Instead of stopping at the floor that held their work areas, they descended to the lowest level of the installation. They passed through the airlock in sequence and emerged into a mammoth space.

It was a giant rectangle with several sectioned-off areas within it. One was a barracks that was probably large enough to sleep everyone in the headquarters if needed. Aisling had never needed to use it, since portaling home after a late night was actually quicker. Another section held a gym with machines and free weights. Delsanra, the coven’s combat teacher, would doubtless chide her for the lack of time she spent in there.

A firing range occupied a room built along the long wall across from the entrance. She had passed several enjoyable hours experimenting with the many firearms available from Dragonfly’s armorer. A track ran around the perimeter of the interior section and surrounded a space filled with mats for unarmed combat practice. Immediately to their left were the locker rooms. Beyond it, and occupying a full third of the space, was an area containing a modular training system that could create realistic combat scenarios from a variety of building pieces.

A muscular man with a tablet in his hands walked up to them with a smile. “Watson, Keane. Right on time. You’re in the gauntlet today.” Both women groaned in unison and the man smiled. “Fridays are for training, not fun. Hit the locker room.”

One of Dragonfly’s core principles was that all its members needed to be able to come to the defense of the organization if it was attacked. Aside from those whose physical abilities didn’t permit it, everyone trained with weapons and with unarmed combat. She smiled at the thought of Sophie Girard taking a run at the gauntlet. Opportunities were available to do more, and they were encouraged to take them. But at a minimum, they spent one morning or afternoon per week in the endeavor. The personnel who worked over the weekends worked while they trained and did their own training on days when the weekday staff was holding down the fort.

As they entered, a pair of the lockers that covered the walls popped open. The two women quickly changed into the uniforms that lay inside. The outfits included a T-shirt, heavy button-down shirt, belted tactical trousers, and boots. Once everything was on, they were clad in black from feet to wrist to neck. Cleverly hidden within the fabric was circuitry that would register hits from the electronic training weapons they used. When that occurred, air tubes inside would fill and stiffen whatever limb was impacted so it became virtually unusable. She’d fallen more than once because of the sudden lockup of a leg.

They exited the locker room and entered the adjoining equipment room, where a middle-aged man with a buzz cut handed them rifles, pistols with gun belts, and display glasses. Aisling donned her glasses first, which synced up with her suit and indicated everything was working properly. She buckled on the gun belt and pulled out the weapon to examine it.

Both the rifle and the pistol were designed to work with the gear and had closed barrels. They shot out a laser, and the training room system determined hits and misses and communicated the results to the suits. Otherwise, it looked and felt like a real weapon, and even vibrated with an appropriate recoil when triggered. Victoria hefted her rifle, looped the strap over her head, and complained, “It’s like being in the Army or something.”

Aisling laughed. “Think of it as a fun social event for work.”

Victoria scowled. “We might have different ideas of what constitutes ‘fun’ and ‘social.’”

“You should come home with me some weekend. I’ll show you what hard training really looks like.”

“It’s a deal. As long as you commit to coming out with me for several evenings.”

Aisling winced at the thought. “So, we should be getting to the gauntlet.” She jogged forward to the sound of Victoria’s laughter. A man in a uniform similar to theirs stood in front of it. He looked down at his tablet and said, “Keane, you’re first.”

She stepped in front of the entrance and gripped the rifle in both hands. “You got it, boss.”

“Wait for the buzzer.”

It sounded a few seconds later, and Aisling ran through the dark doorway ahead of her. She’d run the gauntlet many times, but this was the first time she found a barrier placed a few steps inside. She jerked to a halt before she smashed into it, crouched, and moved to the right as her glasses cast the dim interior into a high-resolution image with a greenish glow.

A figure popped up ahead of her without warning. She rose and pulled the rifle trigger three times. The target signaled a hit by turning perpendicular to her. She advanced quickly to the next position as laser beams shot out of ceiling-mounted weapons and narrowly missed her.

Aisling angled her gun upward and shot out the two automatic turrets. She heard the clatter of a grenade striking the floor behind her, and she hurdled the obstruction in front of her and ran forward to the next, skipping the one to the right. The sound of an explosion came from behind, fictional of course, and an enemy target with a weapon popped up directly to her right.

She twisted and whipped her rifle around to shoot it, but she pulled the trigger an instant after it fired. Her left arm glowed red on the wireframe display in her glasses and it stiffened. She let the rifle fall on its strap and drew her pistol. Two more targets deployed, and she threw herself into a forward roll to avoid their virtual rounds, then came up and blasted them both at close range with a pair of shots each.

The feeling that she was falling behind and might be overwhelmed if she didn’t move propelled her forward to hurdle the next piece of cover on her side at a full run. Several more targets deployed around her, and she put them down with fast shots, narrowly restraining herself from pulling the trigger on the hostage image that came up.

Finally, she reached the end of the challenge and burst out of the darkness into light, panting. A man in well-worn black fatigues with graying hair, clean-shaven features, and a muscular build gave her a sharp nod. “Not bad, Keane.”

“Thanks, Heinrich.”

“But not perfect. Your rush away from the grenade put you in danger. If one more of the bad guys had activated, they probably would’ve gotten you.”

She nodded. “I know. What would the better strategy have been?”

“Crouch on the other side of the obstacle until the detonation, then lay down covering fire as you run forward. That would’ve kept them down until you got to cover.”

The buzzer sounded again, and she looked up at the video screen on the wall that showed Victoria’s run. Her coworker was more cautious than Aisling had been and moved deliberately from spot to spot, very much focused on staying in cover. She made it through the trial without getting hit but also missed taking down several of the timer-limited targets. When she emerged, she put her hands on her hips and cursed. “I left too many of them up.”

Heinrich nodded. “That continues to be your consistent challenge here. Too conservative.”

Victoria sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “I just get amped up. I don’t think I’m meant for combat situations.”

Aisling laughed. “My offer’s still open.”

Her friend offered a challenging grin. “You know what it will cost you.”

Heinrich interrupted their banter. “Both of you head to the front. This time, you’ll go through it together.”

As they walked around the perimeter of the gauntlet building toward the starting point, Victoria asked, “Try not to shoot me, okay?”

Aisling laughed. “Don’t worry. Like the man said, Fridays are for training… not fun.”

CHAPTER SIX

After a good night’s sleep, Aisling portaled to her family’s home in Ireland. It was early enough that her mother was the only one present when she entered the kitchen. Moira Keane said, “Make yourself useful. Put those rolls in the oven.” She was slim, with pale skin and dark red hair that reached to her waist when it was unbound. Her tenure as the primary leader of the coven had been fraught with trouble, but since the decisive battle against the werewolves who had threatened the village and the nearby town of Westport, things had been peaceful. And let’s hope they stay that way.

She helped prepare oatmeal, pancakes, eggs, and some other baked goods. With about ten minutes left before everything was ready, her mother’s head turned suddenly toward the backyard. “Cait’s here.”

Aisling grinned, dropped the towel she was holding, and ran out the back door. Her sister was on the stone circle that was the family home’s most common portal destination. Cait smiled in greeting, but Aisling ignored her and charged at the red and purple dragon standing at her sister’s side.

Azasainia, nicknamed Aza, reared up in faux anger as she reached him. She ran directly into his chest and tackled him to the ground. He landed beneath her, and she twisted and wrestled in an attempt to pin him while he smacked her with his wings and pushed at her with his hind feet, keeping his claws sheathed. After two minutes, she rolled off to the side and panted, “I yield.”

The dragon pranced over to stand near Cait, who was looking down at her with a sad expression. “I can’t tell what’s worse. Your childishness, or your ineffectiveness.”

The words were filled with teasing affection. Aisling stuck out her tongue. “Aza, are you sure you wouldn’t rather hang out with me than with her? I’m way more interesting.”

Cait rolled her eyes. “He says you’re way more annoying.”

The dragon shot a small jet of flame out of his mouth at Cait, who danced aside with a laugh. “Fine, fine. He says I need looking after, so he has to stick with me.”

Aisling laughed and climbed to her feet. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

They went inside and Moira had them both take food out to the breakfast table where their other sister, Brianna, was already seated and talking to their father. Lewis looked up at her with a grin. “Well, hello, Aisling. How goes the investigating?”

She dropped into her chair. “Not as exciting as one might think.”

Brianna barked a laugh. “Well, when your title is investigator, it seems like that really sets the boundaries of the story. What are you investigating today?” She changed her voice to make it sound like a conversation. “Crickets.” Then back to normal. “Woo hoo.” Aisling responded by hurling a still-warm roll at her head. Brianna caught it with a laugh. “Am I wrong?”

Aisling scowled. “Not wrong. Just stupid. As usual.”

Cait, who had taken the chair beside her, added, “She’s got you on that one, Bri.”

Through a mouthful of bread, her oldest sister shot back, “You both suck.”

Moira snapped, “Manners, please. Could we have one simple meal in peace for a change?” Her voice was filled with a warmth that belied her words.

They passed plates around and started eating. For a while, the only sound was the clicking of utensils. Then Cait said, “It’s so nice to come back here without the threat of the werewolves hanging over our heads.”

Her mother nodded. “A definite improvement. We’ve increased our patrols and put in additional measures to detect large animals deeper in the forest than we had them before. We wind up having to go look at places where things other than wolves have set them off quite often, but it’s worth it.”

Living under the threat of the werewolves that had gathered near the village had been a dark time for the coven and the nearby town. Fortunately, that was a year and a half in the past.

Aisling suggested, “I think another treasure hunt on Oriceran might be fun, Dad.” The magical planet that had crossed over with Earth was the original source of their magic—and also a great place to search for valuables.

Lewis grinned. “Music to my ears, daughter number three.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

Brianna shook her head. “He’s been watching old movies. Ignore him. Every now and again, he comes out with something that just sounds stupid.”

He laughed. “I find it amusing.”

Moira lifted an eyebrow. “You’re the only one, I’m afraid.”

He shrugged. “Still. Worth it.”

Aisling chuckled and pulled a pastry from the basket. Her fingers suddenly burned as she was lifting it to her mouth, and she dropped it with a yelp and shook her hand. Aza snapped up the pastry before it hit the floor, and she shouted, “Ow. Damn it.”

Cait grinned. “Tell Sashura I said hello.”

Aisling headed out the door without delay. The burning caused by her wand-rings faded as she got closer to the clearing in the forest where the coven’s magic teacher instructed her students. Aisling found her sitting cross-legged on the stump of a large tree positioned in the center of the open area.

She growled, “You know, you could just text me.”

Her teacher smiled as she rose to her feet with a slow spin. “No cell service here.”

“Lies. You just like hurting people.”

“Pain builds character.”

Aisling closed the distance to the other woman and wrapped her in a hug, then released her. “So, what are you teaching today?”

“What would you like to learn?” Sashura countered.

The memory of what Aisling had discovered in the listening post gave her the answer. “I think I need to know more about shadow magic to do my job properly. I found someone who had been killed by it. The signs were pretty obvious, but it was still hard for me to find them because of my unfamiliarity.”

Sashura generated a small ball of shadow in her palm. “It sounds like your job is getting more dangerous.”

Aisling's eyes locked onto the magic, and the sight made her stomach flutter. “Probably a one-off. But it would be good to learn, anyway.” No one outside Dragonfly knew who she really worked for. They had a general understanding of what she did, and that the work was for a government agency, but no more. She figured they’d all be quite surprised by the truth, and it was occasionally hard to keep her mouth shut about it.

“We’ll review phased magic as a warm-up beforehand,” Sashura began. She called out magics in pairs, and Aisling created shields made of those elements. It was a technique she’d learned training with Cait, and she’d become relatively adept at it.

“You’re getting better,” her teacher observed.

Aisling smiled at the praise. “I have time to practice due to what my work friend calls my ‘Antipathy to fun social events.’”

“That’s no way to live. You should balance employment and enjoyment.”

“I know, I know. Eventually, but not just now.”

“Sit,” Sashura instructed. Aisling complied, and her teacher joined her on the ground. “Focus your energies inward and slow your breathing. Shut out the external. Let me know when you’re prepared to proceed.”

Sashura's teachings often involved this meditative step, so it was fairly easy for Aisling to fall into the appropriate place. “I’m ready.”

“Find the space within where your magic lives. Interrogate it, examine it. You will find something that feels like a barrier. It might seem to be a wall or perhaps simply an area of darkness where nothing seems to be. It could even be a place that generates fear when you approach. When you locate it, hold it in your mind. It will be difficult to grasp. When you’ve got it, let me know.”

Aisling searched. Her senses registered Sashura's magic as it wrapped around her, and she wondered if the purpose was to watch, assist, or something else. She discovered the area more by absence than presence; a place within that her mind just slid past. Holding onto it was like trying to corral a fish coated with oil. After what felt like a long battle, she had it under her control. “Okay.”

“This is the difficult part. I want you to pull your power through that location. That means you will have to sense the source of your magic and identify the path to take it through that space before bringing it into reality to create a ball of shadow.”

Aisling shifted her attention inward again. Figuring out the routing wasn’t difficult. That was precision work, which she was adept at in all arenas. But to actually pull her power through it and force it to flow smoothly was an entirely different story. The effort it took was as draining as any physical exertion she’d ever done, and she was dimly aware that sweat had broken out on her skin.

Finally, after what felt like hours, a sparkling ball of purple appeared in her hand. She gasped and released it immediately. Sashura said, “Well done,” but then shook her head. “You were using your magic effectively, as always. But your resources seem reduced from what they once were. I will give you techniques to build up the reservoir of magic within you.”

Aisling laughed wearily. “How am I supposed to go to fun social events if I have to do all this practice?”

Sashura lifted an eyebrow. “I grant you a specific exemption from training any day you do something social.”

Well, that backfired. “Fine.”

“I want a daily report.”

“Really?”

Sashura grinned. “Yes. Don’t forget, you are a member of one of the coven’s strongest families. You have a responsibility to uphold.”

She scowled. “Cait's the one who needs to have powerful babies.”

“It’s possible that you all have that potential level of power within you.”

Aisling stood and wobbled a bit, and Sashura reached out a hand to steady her.

She gave her teacher a farewell hug. “I’m leaving now before you say another word on that particular topic.”

Sashura called after her, “And what better place to find a mate than at fun social events?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

That night, after dinner with her family, Aisling took her mechanical bird, Grayson, out to the clearing in the center of the village. Aza scampered out after her as she called his name. They’d played together like this on many occasions, and he leapt up into the air and circled, waiting for her to do her part.

She connected to the bird with her magic and a gesture sent it spiraling upward with strong flaps of its small wings. Her body stayed motionless while she reacclimated herself to the object, which was a combination of technology and magic, and started chasing Aza with it. When she caught him, the roles would reverse, and it would be her challenge to avoid being tagged by the dragon.

After a full minute, she began to perform a martial art form she knew in her bones, one she’d practiced hundreds of times since her childhood. Operating the bird while doing so was something she still found challenging, which made it a weakness to be overcome. She’d been working on the skill since the fracas with the wolves the previous year. The bird had been useful for reconnaissance then, but it had limited her ability to contribute anything more.

She caught the dragon, rolled her bird in celebration, and sent the machine into a downward spiral to gain speed. Her creation had agility on its side but couldn’t match the dragon for raw velocity. She weaved into turns and twists, climbing higher when it was possible so she’d be in position to dive if she needed a sudden burst of speed. Her body continued the motions of her form and both halves of her attention handled their tasks well.

She sensed another presence, but her brain recognized it as friendly, so she didn’t stop what she was doing. After several moments, Cait asked, “How’s it going?”

Aisling grunted inwardly with effort as she sectioned off a part of her mind to focus on speaking. “Okay. Difficult.”

Cait laughed. “But that’s hardly a challenge at all for someone as self-proclaimed-brilliant as you. Here, let me help.”

Aisling's eyes swiveled as her sister lifted her hands. The bracelets on Cait’s wrists glowed, and sticks came flying out of a nearby woodpile to land in her palms. She tossed one, and Aisling almost fumbled the catch.

Cait grinned. “It’s fairer this way.”

“I don’t think your definition of fair has anything to do with the real world.” Her sister moved in at a glacial speed compared to her normal combat moves. She brought her stick down in a strike from the upper right and Aisling brought hers up to block in recognition of the first move of a simple weapons form. For what felt like a long time, all of Aisling's being was focused on keeping her mind separated and her attention split between her feet, her hands, and the bird above.

Aza caught it, and they flipped roles again. Her vision was a mashup of a feed from the bird merged with input from her eyes. She couldn’t explain how her magic accomplished that particular task, or how it allowed her to fully see both, but it did. That random thought caused her to miss a block and Cait’s stick rapped her on the leg. She cursed, and her sister laughed. “Language, Aisling.”

“Bite me, Caitriona.”

Cait pressed harder and the speed of their combat increased minute by minute. By the end, Aisling's frantic hold on everything was slipping fast. Cait stepped in, kicked her foot out from under her, and pushed her down. Her stick went flying, and Grayson plummeted. Aisling regained control of it and directed it straight at Cait’s head. Her sister ducked with a loud shriek and the bird settled to the ground between them.

“I’m heading up to the mountain to rest. Want to come?” Cait invited.

Aisling stood. “Let me get dressed and stow Grayson, and sure.” After storing her creation back in its box, she donned hiking pants and boots plus a long-sleeve shirt. She grabbed her walking stick and headed for the door, then, as an afterthought, strapped her swords across her back. It hadn’t been necessary to take such precautions for some time, but it would be foolish to need them and not have them just because she was too lazy to carry the weight.

Aza flew overhead as she followed her sister up the path. “I’ve always wondered why you don’t just portal there more often.”

From a few steps ahead, Cait replied, “I use this climbing time to center my thoughts. Getting into the right meditative state isn’t difficult for me any longer, but this makes it effortless and might even make my rest more effective.” A moment later, Cait laughed suddenly. “Aza wants you to know that your bird isn’t a worthy opponent for a dragon.”

Aisling scowled at him. “I’m working on that. And you can tell scalehead up there to keep his negative opinions to himself.” The dragon swooped down and cut right in front of her. She laughed and shouted, “You don’t scare me, fangface.”

They traded pleasant conversation as they continued up the side of Croagh Patrick. When they reached the top, she helped Cait clean the plateau, which was home to three ritual circles of different sizes created by stones placed around their perimeters. Tourists were allowed to visit the area in relatively small numbers, but they had an unwelcome habit of leaving the space a mess when they departed. Sometimes she thought it would be better if they couldn’t visit, but denying the inhabitants and visitors access to the mountain where St. Patrick was believed to have spent forty days would be taking something very special away from them.

Several of the circles had rocks knocked askew, and she replaced them while Cait gathered wood from the sheltered stack and piled it into the center circle. Aza flew down as her sister walked the circle to bind her magic to it. All three of them entered the ring and sat, then Cait said, “Connigh.” The ward circle flared to life to protect them from anything beyond it. She smiled. “See you in eighty-one minutes.”

Aisling watched Cait close her eyes and immediately go still. She focused her own attention inward in search of a similar stillness but was unable to find it. A deliberate effort filled her thoughts with equations and circuit diagrams, one of her most reliable ways to separate her mind from the reality that surrounded it. She eventually found a spot inside to relax and let her consciousness float.

When she resurfaced, her watch told her she’d been away for a little over thirty minutes, which wasn’t a bad number for her. She repeated the process several times while waiting for her sister to finish her meditative rest, each lasting for a shorter duration than the last. When it was almost time for Cait to wake up, Aisling stood and stretched with a yawn.

Her sister’s eyes flickered open, and she yawned too, as if in response.

“You’re so lucky to be able to trade meditation for sleeping,” Aisling complained. “I could get so much done with that kind of time.”

Cait smiled up at her. “I can’t lie. It’s pretty awesome. There’s still time for the talent to manifest in you, though. I had been meditating up here regularly for more than a year before I discovered that ability.”

Aisling bent down and hooked her fingers under her toes, then pulled on them to stretch. “Maybe.”

Cait’s voice was filled with warmth as she said, “Oh, look. We have a visitor.”

The ward glowed as it fell, and Aisling turned to see a large fox step into the circle. He had reddish fur with white on his muzzle but would never be mistaken for a mundane animal due to the wavering transparency of his form. He was the avatar or the guardian or the spirit of the mountain. She couldn’t quite remember what he called himself. She’d seen him before, but he looked far better than at any of their other previous meetings, which had happened during the werewolf threat. The fox greeted each of them by name. Cait asked, “Just stopping by to say hi?”

The fox chuckled, which sounded like a series of small barks. “Not only that, although it is lovely to see you, as always. Now that I have achieved my full power again, finally, I can sense the wrongness to the East far more strongly. It is as if something is rotting away inside the conduits of magic.”

Aisling frowned. “Do you know where it is?” It seemed a thing Dragonfly would want to be aware of.

His muzzle swished from side to side. “No. Only that it is a place of power like this one. But I must imagine that if it had a guardian at one point, it no longer does.”

“I’ll see if Sabrina can dig anything up about what it might be,” Cait offered. The infomancer was one of Cait’s best friends and worked with her in the US Marshals office in Boston.

“I’ll see if my organization knows anything,” Aisling added.

Cait smiled across at her. “One of these days, you’re going to tell me who you’re working for.”

Aisling offered her best mysterious grin. “Doubt it.”

Cait shook her head. “Such a disappointment when people feel the need to keep secrets.”

Aisling snorted. “You are not one to talk on that topic, sister mine.”

The fox interjected, “Anything either of you can do to figure it out would be welcome. While I am confident we are safe here, I fear for what might be happening in other places.”

On the walk down the mountain, Aisling sent herself a message so she’d be sure not to forget to check into it. Whatever threatened magic also threatened her family and community. Even if she hadn’t been part of the family that held her people’s leadership, she’d still feel the responsibility to preserve the coven. A yawn overtook her. But I can deal with that later. Now I just need a bed.

CHAPTER EIGHT

After breakfast on Sunday, Aisling headed back to her flat to shower and change. Her apartment was one of many converted terrace houses in a middle-class neighborhood. Where once they had been homes for factory workers, now each had been redone as separate floor flats with new interiors. She paid extra for the upper story that included an added balcony. She’d met many of her neighbors at conversations held while sitting outside in the evenings.

It was small, but she didn’t mind. The rent was tolerable, and it provided enough space to hold her stuff and her without feeling cramped. She might have felt differently if she couldn’t simply portal home for the weekend or if she lacked access to the tools she needed for her profession and hobbies at work, but for now, everything was perfect.

She’d materialized in her walk-in closet, which was the best thing about the place. It was as large as her bedroom, with a vanity in the center of the room that allowed her to sit and take care of her hair and makeup. Combined, it and her bedroom filled about a third of the flat’s living space. She dropped her clothes in the hamper near the small, stacked washer and dryer in the corner and headed into the bathroom to shower.

When she was clean, she donned jeans, sandals, and an old concert T-shirt she’d found in a thrift shop nearby. It was faded, but the single flower of the Depeche Mode album was still very visible, red on black. She grabbed the handle of the medium-sized rolling equipment case in the corner of her closet room, opened a portal, and rolled it through to an alley. She dragged it behind her the couple of blocks to the Council House, which wasn’t open to the public on Sundays.

Her credentials got her into a side door, where she had to pass through a security airlock before accessing the staircase. She walked down to the floor beneath her own and again went through the process of verifying her identity. The door slid aside, and she rolled her case onto the spotless white floor of the main fabrication room.

This level of the building was all about creating things in physical form. She’d done most of the design work on her current project at her workstation a floor above, which, like all the computers in the building, had access to all the software through its connection to a huge mainframe computer. But this was where she had to be if she wanted to take it from the virtual to the real.

The room had three worktables identical to her own along one wall. She opened the butterfly clasps that secured the top of the case and removed it. With exquisite care, she extracted the foam brick that filled it and set it on the nearest table. Next, she pulled away the quartet of thick bands that bound the foam, split it apart down the middle, and dropped the side pieces back in the case. Finally, she lifted the metal object from the rectangular base and placed it on the table.

Her current project was a dragon at a much smaller scale, about the size of an eagle. The inner portions were complete, including its power cell, computer, and communication, as was the skeletal framework that would support the outer skin. She called up the table’s holographic interface and the built-in scanner loaded her custom control and design software. It drew diagnostics about the machine onto the virtual displays.

She tapped the floating button marked “Test sequence.” With a soft whirr, the dragon’s head rose from its bowed position. It swiveled side to side in a reasonable representation of the movement a living being would make. She’d spent a lot of time with Aza to create accurate movements in her mechanical copy, and Cait had sent her videos of specific things she needed more detail on.

The internal testing proceeded down the skeleton from head to tail as each piece activated and ran through its full range of movements. Her smile, which had begun small, stretched into a full grin by the time it was done. “You are so gorgeous, my little friend.”

Aisling called up the schematic and the project file for its outer skin and waved her hands to place virtual pieces onto the representation of the skeleton to make sure they looked exactly as she wanted them to. When one side was complete, she turned the dragon in front of her and the diagram rotated to show the other side, then the top and bottom. It took hours, but finally, she was satisfied.

She pressed the print button. Along the opposite wall were seven industrial 3-D printers in various sizes that could handle anything from a full human-sized print to the most intricate miniature mechanisms. The second one from the left activated and began to draw out the initial piece of armor for her new creation. She’d selected simple plastic for the trial and was still debating what material to use when the time came to make the actual armor.

Aisling reclined with a groan and realized she’d been at the work for almost four hours. She headed into the small break room, pulled a soda from the refrigerator, and emptied the can in one long gulp. After several moments where she wondered if the painful bubble in her chest would ever go down, she retrieved another, this time a bottle with a screw top so she wouldn’t spill it, and took it back out to the room. She called up a technomancy journal to read while the machines did their work and lost herself in it.

Preceded by a tuneful whistle, Brodie McGregor walked in. Dragonfly’s chief technologist was in his late forties, she guessed, with average height and build. His long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and his goatee was as precise as it always was. He was dressed in soccer shoes, jean shorts, a T-shirt, and a tattered leather jacket. Aisling had liked him from their first meeting on her first day with the organization and had consulted with him on many of her projects since.

“That was a nice tune you were whistling,” she greeted him.

He smiled. “Aisling, I see that you’re burning the weekend oil again.” His expression fell into a frown. “That metaphor doesn’t make sense. Ignore it.” She laughed, and he continued, “It’s a new song I’m putting together. Probably going to be piano and classical guitar.”

“I volunteer to be your first audience.”

His grin returned as he came over to look at her worktable. “Deal. Working on your dragon again, I see.”

“Yep. Getting close to the end. Test fitting of the armor plates.”

“How much longer until you can try it out for real?”

She gestured toward the printers, three of which were now running. “If I can get all the plates printed and attached today, I probably only need a few hours of testing before she can fly.”

He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t forget, you promised I would get to be the second person to see it in action.”

Aisling laughed. “I remember. What are you here for today?”

He waved a hand. “Work piles up. I tend to do paperwork on the weekends for an hour or two. I don’t like to bring my work home with me.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.”

He gave a wave as he walked away. “Good luck.”

A printer dinged, and she removed the first plate from it, one of the many pieces that would cover its wings. The printer began whirring on the next piece, and then another printer, slightly larger, started up as well. The system was in control of the production now, and she was just a cog serving it.

Aisling carefully fitted the plastic piece over the small metal projections, then used her magic to spin on the minuscule caps that would hold it in place. The dragon had started as a way to keep her technomancy skills up, since when she’d taken the job, she hadn’t known if it would turn out to be a career or not.

To be honest, she still wasn’t sure, although she found her work as an investigator both interesting and educational. Getting to dig into the technomagical devices other people had created had expanded her own knowledge geometrically. It was different than learning it in school, where she experienced it from the bottom up, so to speak. Here, she was deconstructing, trying to understand the inner workings of the completed project.

It was challenging, and she enjoyed it. But she’d never given up on the dragon. It had become a passion project, a personal challenge to complete. She also figured it could be a useful tool for patrolling the coven when she was done. She might be able to teach someone else how to interface with it. If that didn’t pan out, she could probably create a simple remote control that would work with a basic artificial intelligence.

This model had been assembled entirely by hand, but she figured that once she had all the pitfalls fixed, she could build a process sufficient to allow a robotic fabrication unit to build it from start to finish. They wouldn’t be cheap, but neither would they be prohibitively costly.

That was all in a potential future. Aisling returned her mind to the present and focused on removing the finished pieces from the printers and attaching them to the dragon’s skeleton. She didn’t look at the clock until the piece that covered the tip of the tail was secured, then let out a small curse at the realization that it was midnight. She patted the completed dragon. “Guess you’ll need to wait a little longer to fly, sweetheart.”

One benefit of being in this particular room was that it permitted magic. She packed up her stuff, portaled home, put the case back where it belonged, and dropped into bed fully clothed. Asleep in minutes, her dreams were filled with a shimmering metallic dragon that banked and dove among the clouds. She mumbled, “Shimmer. That’s a good name,” then rolled over and fell asleep again.

CHAPTER NINE

Aisling got to work early enough to hit the café in the lobby. She carried the lattes, each with their own clever design drawn in foam, down to her workspace. She slid one onto Victoria’s desk and took her own seat, then relaxed and sipped as she savored the quiet. Her serenity lasted for about three minutes before her coworker breezed in.

“Coffee, perfect. You are my personal savior,” Victoria said by way of greeting.

“You’re welcome.”

Victoria laughed. “I was talking to the coffee, not you.” Aisling groaned like she’d been wounded, and the other woman cackled again. “Seriously, thank you. Last night was a late one.”

“The boyfriend?”

“No. A friend of mine spotted someone she thinks is engaged in some light stalking. I went out with her to keep an eye on things.”

“Was she right?”

“I think so. I’m going back tonight and try to chat him up and find out what his deal is.”

Aisling frowned. Victoria’s tone didn’t signal serious concern, but it was still worrying. “You’re not planning to do anything dangerous, are you? Want me to back you up?”

Victoria waved a hand. “Of course not. I’ll be fine. And don’t worry, I can always rely on my karate if needed. Or, you know, knee him in a sensitive spot.”

Aisling swiveled to face her workstation with a shake of her head. “You lead a crazy life, woman. Maybe you should change that.”

“And you lead a boring one. Maybe you should change that.”

Aisling activated her system without giving her friend the satisfaction of a reply. When she was fully logged in, a message beeped at her. From Annika Lind, and it ordered her to report to infomancy at nine-thirty. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“What?”

“Annika is sending me to the infomancers’ domain.”

“Maybe they need someone to get them coffee.”

“You’re definitely going to have to find a new source, jerk.”

At the appointed time, Aisling walked down two levels. She passed through the security airlock and once beyond it, a computerized female voice emanated from all around her. It requested with precise, polite diction, “Please walk to the workspace directly on your left.”

Small lights embedded in the floor lit up to show her the path. The space was highly technical looking, like something out of a science fiction movie. Every surface was either pure white or glass, the latter in varying transparencies from opaque to invisible. Her low heels clicked on the hard tiles as she paced toward the door at the end of the corridor.

It swung open at her approach, and she walked through to the room beyond. The space had a brown leather couch along the right wall, a huge display covering the far wall, and several potted plants in the corners, each with its own grow light. A massive desk in the center and the chair behind it occupied most of the rest of the area.

The infomancer occupying that chair rose and extended a hand. She was incredibly thin, but her movements were smooth and confident. It took a moment for Aisling to notice the barely visible exoskeleton where it peeked out from under her clothes at her neck and wrists. The other woman said, “I’m Mia Pederson. I already know that you’re Aisling Keane, from Investigation.”

She waved for Aisling to sit and headed back to her chair. “We haven’t met, so let me give you the story. I have a genetic disorder that causes my muscles to atrophy. A genetic cure for it hasn’t been found yet, but we’re hopeful it will happen sometime soon. My exoskeleton interfaces with my infomancy and allows me to move as well as someone without my disorder. I’ve also got circuitry embedded in my muscles to handle other stuff. So, I’ve got it good, all things considered.”

Mia pushed her curly black hair out of her face and added, “And I’m pretty sure I can overclock the whole thing and become a Terminator, although I really hope I never need to try.”

Aisling laughed. “A pleasure to meet you. I do tech and magic, so I’m naturally curious about your rig. Maybe sometime you can tell me more about it.”

The other woman’s grin widened. “Oh, you’ll lust after this equipment, then, I promise you. It’s a date.” She straightened and started moving her hands over her desk as if there were controls there. “You’ll find VR gear inside the end table to your right so you can join me. We’re going hunting.”

Aisling donned the headgear and leaned back. Cait had told her about the experience of using VR with an infomancer, but Aisling had never actually experienced it before. She’d worked with infomancers a bunch of times, but never in an investigative capacity, more as research collaborators. VR was familiar, though, because she used it routinely in her professional and personal projects. “Do you know why Annika sent me down here?”

The answer came through the speakers in the headset. “Most investigators get a ride along, so they know what we do down here. It goes the other way, too, when we hire a new infomancer.” The image around Aisling flickered to life and showed what had to be Mia’s loading room. In the center of the bare white chamber was an avatar of a woman with larger-than-average muscles, a blonde mohawk, and tattoos covering all the skin below her face that her tank top, jean shorts, and paratrooper boots didn’t hide.

Her flesh was an amalgam of technology and tissue, and Aisling's eyes widened as blades extended first from her fingertips and then from her forearms. Pistols holstered on both thighs looked larger than average. Mia said, “Here we go.” Without an obvious transition, the blank room became an alley in a grimy city. Blazing neon was everywhere, and the avatar fit in perfectly with the cyberpunk atmosphere.

Aisling wondered if she’d customized it for this occasion or if it was just a coincidence. She watched from behind as the infomancer stomped forward and made a right-hand turn into another alley. Five tough-looking men with nasty expressions, extreme hairstyles, and chrome augmentations merged into their flesh greeted her. One spoke, but the words were lost in Aisling's amazed surprise at Mia’s sudden movement.

The woman skipped ahead and to the right, angled toward the nearest, and threw a punch that ended a few inches in front of him. The blade in her forearm shot out, plunged into his throat, then retracted. She spun on her back foot and slashed a backhand strike. The finger razors came out and gouged the neck of the next one. He fell away in a gout of blood as she dashed forward to engage another foe. That enemy grinned arrogantly as his own arm blades slipped out, but he couldn’t bring them into line before Mia reached him.

Her blades sank deep into his chest. She retracted them and snapped a front kick into his torso that knocked him backward to land in between the remaining pair of opponents. They were trying to get their weapons out, but Mia calmly dropped and rolled, the motion carrying her toward them. She stood and plunged her arm blades up through both of their chins simultaneously.

Their faces registered only the shock of their sudden end as the blades retracted and they dropped. Aisling shook her head in wonder. She’d known intellectually what this would be like but hadn’t imagined that the actual experience would be so visceral. And I’m only getting it second hand. She’s living it.

Mia explained, “Bots. They’re slower than I am.”

Aisling turned to the mental techniques drilled into her by Sashura and Delsanra to slow her breathing, which had amped up in response to the fight. Mia reached down, yanked a chain from around one of the fallen thug’s necks, and used the attached key to open a door at the end of the alley. She leaned backward as a laser beam shot past her face, and put her back to the wall beside the door. She muttered, “Amateurs,” as she drew her pistols. Each had two barrels, a long one and a shorter, larger one underneath.

Mia turned and surged through the door in a fast crouch walk. Eight precisely aimed shots blew off the heads of four robots. The few shots they managed to trigger before their destruction went high. She stood and spun her weapons into their holsters. The room appeared to be a reception area, with plastic chairs bolted to the dirty walls and floor. A door in the back opened into a hallway.

As the infomancer walked down it, she threw what looked like playing cards through the small seam under the doors to either side. Aisling read the labels on the doors as they passed. Each designated a criminal act. Protection, extortion, prostitution, drugs, and several more.

Mia explained, “We’re in a communication server. Those little bots I threw will gather data for us. But that’s just the appetizer. There’s something a bit more substantial for the main course.”

She kicked open the door at the end of the hallway and stepped inside a dirty office filled with papers and boxes piled randomly about. The most notable thing was the large metal desk that dominated the space. It was marred and dented, and the same could be said for the man rising to his feet behind it. He was portly and unshaven, with unkempt and thinning hair. His short-sleeve button-down had armpit stains. He also fit in well with the dystopian landscape.

His hands were filled with a large shotgun that was shifting around to point at Mia. She drew a pistol and fired it. The detonation was louder than the others had been. When the bullet hit him, it exploded, and he collapsed into a pile of dying flesh. As Mia holstered the gun again, Aisling saw smoke coming from the larger barrel, which must have held some special ammunition.

The infomancer looked around, then went directly to a large picture hanging on the wall. It opened on a hinge to reveal a safe set in the brick. She shook her head. “These people have no imaginations.” It was a moment’s work to unlock it, and Mia pulled out several file folders and leafed through them. “Looks like he’s the only member of the local organization that had contact with the next level up. Those folks look way more serious than these clowns.” She frowned. “This mentions spies. That’s a little too accurate to count as a coincidence.” Aisling understood, then, why she was along. This was connected to what they’d discovered at the listening post, probably inspired by the prisoner they’d interrogated.

A bell chimed, and Mia said, “The enemy infomancers have made it to my first redirect. No chance they’ll find us soon, but no reason to stick around, either.” Aisling's screen went black as the infomancer logged off. She removed the VR and moved over to the side where she could see the infomancer.

“Seems like your lead got us some useful information,” Mia observed. “I’m guessing that’s what Annika hoped for when she invited you to ride along.”

Aisling nodded. “Thanks. Send the stuff to my system?”

“Already done.”

“I’m going to hold you to that date to talk about your hardware.”

Mia laughed. “Can’t wait.”

CHAPTER TEN

The next day, Aisling made it into the office barely on time, thanks to a street performer in Victoria Square that she got caught up watching. She had just sat at her desk, looking forward to the start of a new project when Annika hurried into the room. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a hip pantsuit. “Aisling. I need you. Grab your go bag.”

Aisling slid off her stool to stand before her immediate boss. “I’m an investigator. I don’t have a go bag.” That wasn’t technically true, but the backpack she kept in her apartment filled with weapons and armor for trips to Oriceran probably didn’t count.

The other woman frowned. “You should. Get packed. Use a suitcase. You need to be at New Street station in an hour.”

I didn’t have enough coffee this morning to deal with this. “Why do I need to do that?”

Annika shook her head as if Aisling was the densest person she’d ever met. “Lance will meet you there. Wait for him in one of the cafés. He’ll find you. Leave your passport. He’ll have one for you.”

The other woman departed, and Aisling traded amazed looks with Victoria.

Her friend asked, “Shouldn’t you be going? I can’t believe you don’t have a go bag. Honestly.”

Aisling scowled at the taunt, positive that Victoria didn’t have one either. “This is all your fault because you didn’t go with Lance that day.”

“It was your turn.”

“It was not my turn.”

Victoria laughed. “I know. And this is so hilarious. Be safe.”

Aisling made a rude gesture at Victoria that elicited more laughter and portaled back to her flat. She shoved a variety of clothes into her battered rolling suitcase and changed into jeans, a tank top, and a long cardigan. She grumbled, “Sends me to pack, doesn’t tell me where I’m going, somehow assumes I’ll know what kind of clothes I need.” A sharp yank pulled the zipper closed. “There’s a definite process problem in this organization.”

The fact that she was headed to New Street meant that wherever she was going, it would be by train. Security wasn’t as tight as an airport, but neither was it particularly forgiving, so she didn’t want to risk carrying any weapons with her. That made her remember that she’d probably need her portable magic kit, and she unzipped the suitcase again. It had most of the things her full investigative version did but in smaller amounts.

Aisling forced it in, resecured the zipper, and opened a portal to a designated magic area outside the station. She passed through the outer doors and nodded at the uniforms standing guard there, receiving blank expressions and mirrored sunglasses in return. Way to be intimidating, boys.

The building was gorgeous. The entrance had a stunning glass facade that climbed up multiple levels. People moved around the wide expanse, a press of bodies moving through the space, each only concerned with their own priorities. She plunged into the chaos, one more person focused on their own objective, and navigated the flood to reach the café. A glance up at the menu showed nothing exciting, so she selected a coffee, accepted it gratefully, and breathed in the deliciously bitter scent as she headed for a seat at the high bar that defined the boundary of the café space.

Aisling climbed onto one of the tall chairs and shoved her suitcase under the bar with her feet. She’d just taken her first sip when another person slid into the chair beside her. The initial clue to his identity came from his cologne, which she hadn’t realized she’d noticed before. She looked up to see Lance. “So, this is unexpected.”

He laughed. “This is the way things work in my part of the organization. You have to admit, it’s exciting.” The agent was wearing a suit again, and she wondered if he ever chose any other kind of clothing.

“Do you have a go bag?”

“Of course. Always packed and ready.”

She rolled her eyes. “Naturally. Where are we going?”

“May I have a sip?” He gestured to her coffee. She pushed it toward him, and he drank from it, avoiding the spot where her minimal lipstick had left an imprint on the cup. “Delicious. Thanks. We’re headed for Zurich.”

She nodded as if that made some kind of sense. “And we’re doing that why?”

His smile showed his unexpectedly white teeth. “The trail that began at the listening post in Scotland leads there. Mia found a name in her research, and someone else identified a travel itinerary for him. He’ll be in Zurich tomorrow.”

“And why am I going to Zurich?”

Lance laughed. “You did good last time, and I need a partner for cover. We had a couple of handlers who could have done it, but Annika chose you.”

Aisling took a drink of the coffee to try to steady her spinning thoughts. “Why?”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “You’d have to ask her. I did put in a positive word, but that’s the extent of my involvement.”

A wry tone entered her voice. “Thanks.”

He grinned. “Don’t mention it. Quit worrying. This will be fun.” He slipped a hand into his sports coat and slid over a passport. She opened it to find a driver’s license and several credit cards inside. The passport picture was close enough to her current look that it would work, but wouldn’t match any pictures that might exist out in the ether. “Marla Ash? My name is Marla?” It hit her ears strangely, didn’t fall off her tongue well, and wasn’t a name she would’ve chosen for herself. “At least Ash isn’t a bad name.”

Lance nodded. “No, it’s really not. I’ve had a bunch of these before, and trust me, they can be kind of out there. I’m Kenton Ash.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said automatically. Then, with a suspicious growl, she added, “Why do we have the same last name?”

His grin was back. “Because we’re married.”

“Oh, we are, are we?”

“Yep.” He waggled his fingers to show a wedding band and handed another over to her.

She accepted it with a suspicious frown. “Your idea?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?”

She shook her head. “Probably not. I wonder if there’s a special name for the crime of murdering your fake husband while he sleeps.” She slipped the ring on. It felt entirely unnatural.

Lance laughed. “Aw, come on. Such venom this early in the relationship? I don’t even know why you agreed to marry me.” Aisling began to protest that she hadn’t done any such thing, but he cut her off. “All right. It’s time to move to the train. Stay beside me and act like you’re in love. Remember, we’re married.”

“I’m filing for divorce,” she muttered as she walked at his side, pulling her suitcase behind her. His was far more elegant and undamaged than hers, which struck her as something to complain about later if he got too annoying about the pretend marriage. He led her on an indirect route toward the scanning area that served as a bottleneck between the outer part of the station and the inner section.

She walked under the detector arch, stood in the scanner for ten seconds, and continued. Artificial intelligence did the analysis work, and if a discovery or random chance flagged you for further investigation, several laser pointers would converge on you and the waiting guards would take you aside. It was a fast and efficient system.

They passed through without a problem and headed for their platform. After half a minute or so, Lance whispered, “Don’t react, but I think we’re being followed.”

Aisling resisted the instinctive urge to look around. “Where? Who?” She’d been looking but hadn’t noticed anything.

“Behind us. Two men. Let’s split up and see how they react. I’ll go ahead into the bookstore. You drop into the restroom. Put in your earpiece, and we’ll take it from there.”

Aisling followed his instructions. Wearing the earpiece through security would doubtless have provoked the AI to wonder why they had objects in their ears, so they’d decided against it. She put it in, washed her hands, and headed out. Her eyes moved across the crowd in a casual glance that was anything but casual. She made an instant judgment about whether each person was a threat as her gaze crossed them. By the time she’d finished with those in the immediate area, she hadn’t come up with any.

In her ear, Lance suggested, “Let’s leapfrog. Go forward up to the next logical place to stop.”

She walked ahead, her suitcase clicking along behind her, and paused at a restaurant kiosk to peruse the menu. He walked past, and she watched to see if anyone was obviously following him. No one seemed to be. “Your turn.”

Aisling advanced again, giving him a little wave as she moved up to the next stopping point, where she looked through the display case of an expensive watch brand. Lance came up to stand beside her as if he was examining them as well. “Anything?”

“No, nothing.” Someone passing by would assume they were talking about the watches.

“Then I guess we better get to our train.”

As they walked toward the platform, she asked, “Was that real?”

Lance grinned. “Maybe.”

She shot him a dirty look. “There’s definitely going to be a homicide. The newspapers will read, ‘Annoying man killed on train. Public celebrates.’”

He laughed. “At least my end will be noteworthy. Now hurry, or we’re going to miss it.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

They arrived at the train with no issues, despite Lance’s real or feigned worry, and found their cabin. Aisling had been on trains before, including overnight ones with sleeping cabins, but this was bigger than any she’d ever ridden on. She wholeheartedly approved. In general, portaling was her first choice, trains her second, and airplanes a distant third.

Lance gestured at the two bench seats that faced one another. “Those pull out into a bed.”

She corrected, “Separate beds. This isn’t my first train trip.”

He gave her a mocking grin. “That can be pushed together to make one bed.”

“Good thing for you that we won’t be on this train overnight.”

Lance laughed. “No, no worries there.” He paused, which Aisling found suspicious. Then he delivered the punchline. “We have a hotel room for that.”

She offered a dramatic groan as she lifted her suitcase up into the overhead storage area. “Sleep with one eye open, pal. You could wake up a frog.”

He shelved his luggage as well. “You can’t really do that, can you?”

Aisling adopted her most inscrutable expression and deadpanned, “Try me.”

He shook his head. “Remind me to send Annika a thank you note when this is all over. How about a drink?”

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind.” Although it was still morning, time was always an ephemeral thing on a train. The trip would take a little over eight hours, according to the information boards at the station. The train could travel at a greater speed than that, but it had to make a lot of stops along the way, as their route was a main one.

Lance took the lead, seemingly familiar with the layout of the train. The bar car was like a little lounge, with comfortable chairs around small tables on both sides of the central aisle and a bar with several tall seats in front of it. A tuxedoed woman busily prepared drinks for the passengers. “This is an all-inclusive trip, so order anything you like.”

The bartender turned her attention to them. She wore a smile that contrasted with tired eyes and pale skin that looked as if she spent too much time indoors. “What can I get you?”

Lance gave her a decidedly flirty smile, and his tone held more of the same. “Corpse Reviver No. 2.”

Aisling felt challenged by his selection. “I’ll take a Last Word.” The bartender handed them over a few moments later, and Lance left a bill on the bar. They took seats at a small table that had grooves attached for the glasses so the train’s motion wouldn’t spill them. That explains the weird bottom of the glass and why it’s not filled to the top. She gestured and said, “Smart.”

Lance sipped his drink before replying. “Yeah, they’ve been operating this company for a long time. Have all the tricks down.”

“So, you’ve done this sort of thing before?”

“Order a beverage in a bar car?”

Aisling stared into his eyes, hoping he would feel the menace she was sending. “The probability of amphibious transmutation is rising steadily.”

He laughed. “Yes. I’ve ridden a ton of trains. My job takes me to places that aren’t easily reached by anything other than rail or car.”

“The way your eyes have been moving since we got here tells me you’re looking for something. What is it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Perceptive. Excellent. One of the things that becomes automatic in my job is to constantly take note of faces and physical characteristics. It’s tempting to focus on clothes, but a skilled person can always change that part of their look fairly quickly. Adding a hat or taking one off, switching a reversible jacket, that sort of thing.”

Aisling nodded. “I’m aware of all that. I’m not a complete amateur. But you’re searching for something specific, aren’t you?”

He leaned forward. “Yes and no. Mia said that the people she hacked made it to the first cutout during her run. That’s pretty rare, according to everything I know about her, which means these folks might be competent. So, I’m watching for trouble without knowing what form it might take.”

“Okay. That makes sense.” She disengaged her glass from its holder and leaned back. For several minutes, they both looked out the window and watched the landscape go by.

Then he ventured, “About being an amateur, I definitely don’t think that you are one. Seeing you fight was evidence enough of that. What’s your background?”

Aisling thought about mentioning the wolves but decided against it. “My community prides itself on being able to defend against magical or physical attacks. Plus, I have two older sisters, so I had to learn to fight early.”

Lance groaned. “For me, it’s one older sister and one older brother. They fought each other like mortal enemies most of the time. The only thing that brought them together was to go after me.”

Aisling pointed at him. “Exactly. Explains it all, really, doesn’t it?”

They spent the next hour talking and indulged in another drink each. Her stomach growled loud enough that Lance heard it, and they both laughed. “Time to head to the dining car.”

The dining car was even more elegant than the bar had been. Booths ran down both sides and they claimed an empty one about two-thirds of the way back on the right. The menu was set except for the main course, which offered three options. She chose wild-caught salmon, and he selected a steak.

He poked her at her choice of food, and she explained, “One of the stranger things about my coven and other witches who live in the countryside like we do is that we only eat animals we hunt and kill ourselves. I think the custom has its origins in hygiene and sustainability from way back, but it’s become a cultural thing over time. Obviously, when outside the coven itself, we have to modify that practice a bit. But unless I’m sure it’s not an animal that was raised to be killed, I don’t eat it.”

He accepted the information with more respect than she’d expected. “Would you like me to change my order?”

Aisling unfolded her cloth napkin and dropped it in her lap. “Of course not. You do you. We’re not judgmental about it. It’s just our way. One of those things that holds us together as a group, I guess.”

His face twisted in a wry grin. “In addition to being able to turn people into frogs.”

“That goes without saying.”

The first course was a tasty appetizer of cheese and fruit. After that came a salad with a mix of greens and a surprisingly good dressing. She remarked on it, and Lance nodded. “The company that operates this line hires excellent chefs for each train. The head chef has run more than one Michelin-starred restaurant.”

Aisling frowned. “Isn’t this all a little pricey for government work?”

He laughed. “I’m sure we have an arrangement of some kind with them. Before you ask, no, I don’t know what it is.”

When their main courses came, Aisling said, “So, you’ve heard my story. What’s yours?”

Lance shrugged as he finished the bite he’d just taken. “Pretty normal stuff. Military family, posted in a bunch of different countries while I was growing up. Back in the US for high school. Played football, but not well enough to make it in the NFL. College didn’t appeal at the time, so I enlisted in the Army at eighteen.”

He delayed the tale to take another bite, then continued, “I spent eight years in special forces, all that good stuff. Did an online college degree during that time, as well. Thought about going career, but it had become too routine. I was getting ready to pull some strings and join the CIA when our organization scooped me up.”

Aisling took a sip of her wine and asked, “How did they find you?”

“I’m not sure. But I’m glad they did.”

After a few minutes when the only sounds were the clink of utensils and the surrounding voices, Aisling asked, “So, what sort of adventures have you had?”

He laughed. “Pretty much everything you’d expect.”

She lowered her voice so it wouldn’t carry beyond the table. “Kill people?”

Lance waved a hand to dismiss the question. “I’ve been in a scrape or two.”

Aisling thought about the fight against the werewolves. “Yeah. Me too.” He didn’t ask anything about it, and that angle of conversation faded away, to be replaced by more mundane exchanges. After an excellent dessert of chocolate cake, they wandered back to the cabin to relax. She twisted her fingers in a gesture that activated her magic senses as they walked down the hall, then grabbed and stopped him before he reached for the door. “I think I’d like another drink.”

He looked at her quizzically, and she cut her eyes toward the bar car. “Okay. I’m down for that.”

They ordered drinks and found a table, where she sat beside him instead of across from him. She leaned to whisper in his ear. “The door was trapped.”

His outward demeanor remained unchanged. To anyone walking by, he still would’ve seemed relaxed and amused. But his eyes went hard as they sliced over to her. “What kind? Explosive?”

“Not sure. I didn’t wait around long enough to figure it out, in case someone was nearby watching.”

He nodded with a small frown. “How did you see it?”

“It wasn’t really seeing. It’s like an extra sense, or maybe just increased senses all around. I just knew it was there.”

He flashed a grin. “So, you’re Spider-Man.”

Aisling sighed and shook her head. “It would be more like Spider-Gwen. Unlike them, I have to be actively using it. But I do that automatically a lot of the time.” He nodded. She asked, “So, what do we do now?”

Lance shrugged. “We wait until the end of the trip, disarm it, grab our bags, and go.” He raised his glass in a toast. “Until then… To adventure.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

A few minutes before the train pulled into the station, Aisling and Lance headed back to their cabin. He stood protectively in the hallway while she used her magic to investigate the trap that had been left behind. It was a simple one, just a wire and a grenade, probably containing some kind of gas, since an explosive could be fatal to many more people.

Her telekinesis squeezed the handle on the grenade so it wouldn’t go off, and they walked inside. The curtain had a cord, and she used it to tie the handle down, then wrapped the seatbelt around the weapon for extra security.

Lance pulled down their suitcases from the overhead compartment. “We’ll warn the porter on the way out. Can you lock the car when we leave?” The latch was a simple physical slide.

“Of course.”

Aisling heard a sound from the hallway, a creak of wood underfoot. She snapped up a shield, pushed Lance onto the bench, and fell back to her own. Bullets came through the door and slammed into the opposite wall, missing them both.

When the fire stopped, Aisling yanked open the door, grabbed a startled-looking man holding a silenced pistol with her telekinesis, and pulled him into the room. He stumbled forward, met Lance’s elbow strike with his forehead, and went down in a heap. She coated her fingers in force magic and searched him. Other than the pistol, he carried a wallet and a cell phone. She left the gun but took the other items. They grabbed their bags and headed out, pausing for a moment so she could slide the lock closed.

After they exited the train, Lance guided her toward another that was loading on the opposite side of the platform. He slipped the captured phone into the exterior pouch of someone’s luggage and angled toward the escalator.

Zurich HB was a massive station, one of the largest in the country. It had graceful arcing ceilings that gave a beautiful view of the twinkling stars above. The facility operated around the clock, so all the shops on the periphery of the building were open and active. People milled about in the center of the space, doing the sorts of things travelers did.

Lance leaned close. “We’re being followed. Stay with me.”

Aisling doubted he would joke about such a thing given the trap on the train. He detoured into a bookstore, and she stayed close behind. It was surprisingly deep for a shop in a train station, with several rows of bookshelves heading toward the rear of the space. They walked down the middle aisle and Lance paused to look at a book. He muttered, “I definitely spotted one. There’s probably a team.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Improvisation. We need to do something unexpected.” He returned the book to the shelf and headed for the back of the room.

“I can try to cloak us with illusion, so they won’t see us,” Aisling offered.

He turned at the end of the aisle to face her. “Could you do it in a way that people wouldn’t bump into us while we tried to get out?”

She shook her head with a frown. “Hadn’t thought of that. If it was just me, maybe. With two of us, it seems like it would be way difficult.”

“It was a solid idea. Keep it in your back pocket. It might come in handy. For now, though, if you can prevent anyone from noticing what I’m about to do, that would be great.”

Aisling swept her eyes over the room and spotted a camera in the ceiling. Aside from that, the store held only one worker at the front cash register and a few other customers. She cast illusions to deal with each possible view angle. “Okay, go ahead.”

Lance hustled to the door in the back corner of the place, which had a small keypad set on the wall beside it. He pushed down on the handle, but it refused to open. With a low grunt of annoyance, he pulled out his wallet and withdrew a credit card. He held it an inch away from the keypad, and a moment later the door’s lock clicked.

They walked into a corridor that seemed to run behind all the shops. A far sturdier-looking door with red written warnings about alarms stood to the right. “Handy trick,” she noted.

He tucked the card back into his wallet with a flourish. “Our technical people are almost as good as our investigators.”

She rolled her eyes. “Smooth, Stone.”

His lips twisted upward. “Everyone says so. Come on.” They were halfway down the hallway toward a different door that warned of alarms she was already contemplating how to defeat when it opened, and a uniformed man walked through.

Lance muttered a low curse, then put a smile on his face. “I’m sorry, officer, we seem to have gotten lost.”

The other man seemed for a moment as if he would reply, then drew his pistol instead. Aisling extended her telekinesis, grabbed it, and brought it toward her hand. She would have caught it had the door from the shop beside her not slammed open and propelled her into the wall. She had an instant to chide herself internally for poor situational awareness before two more opened along the corridor. Damn it, they out-thought us. This is a trap.

While her mind was coming to that obvious conclusion, the rest of her was dealing with the situation. She rebounded off the wall ready to fight and used her telekinesis to throw her suitcase into the man who’d hit her with the door. Even though it only had a few feet to travel, it hit him hard enough to spoil his first shot. His gun hiccuped, and the bullet whizzed past her.

Who the hell are these people? Spies? Mercenaries? Something else? She shielded herself and Lance, although she imagined their foes would probably have anti-magic bullets given that they’d been sufficiently skilled to pull this trap together. She stepped forward and launched a sidekick at her opponent. He blocked by slamming the butt of his pistol into her ankle. Had she not been shielded, the blow might have broken the bone. Since she was, all it did was knock her leg down.

Aisling threw her weight forward into a back-fist strike with her right hand. She had aimed for his temple, but he turned his head and instead took the impact directly on his nose. It broke, and blood spurted out everywhere, including onto her. He had the presence of mind to bring the pistol up at her, and she slapped it to the side with her palm as he fired.

The bullet went into the wall to her right. She grabbed onto his wrist so he couldn’t aim it at her again, then turned as a new threat advanced. The one she’d thrown the suitcase at was back in the fight. She’d knocked his gun out of his hand, but he’d produced a knife and was coming at her with it.

She let him get close, then whipped her left leg around in a fast crescent. It connected with his forearm and deflected the knife out of line. She seized him with her telekinesis and used it in combination with a yank on the arm of the one on her right to propel that man forward into the other. The two thugs slammed together and went down in a tangle of limbs.

She looked up to see that Lance had dropped one of his foes and was fighting with the other. Instead of getting involved, she trusted him to handle himself and blasted lightning into the two at her feet. A thump from behind made her turn, and she saw that it was Lance’s last opponent hitting the floor. She turned back to her pair and took their pistols, then made a move to retrieve her luggage. Lance said, “Leave it. We have to run.”

“Seriously?”

The look on his face answered the question. She’d never seen him actually concerned, even in the alley, and she didn’t like the view.

“Come on,” he barked. He opened the door at the end of the hallway but didn’t pass through immediately. Bullets struck the metal. He snarled a curse, closed it again, and pointed at the nearest door back into the shops. “That way. If you can conceal us, do it.”

She cast the appropriate spell to wrap them in a veil and followed as close behind him as she could. Maintaining the veil was easy inside the store, as the shoppers were focused on cases of chilled beverages and walls with hanging snacks and souvenirs, giving them a clear path. But when they exited into the main area and angled toward the building’s exit, it seemed like everyone was moving at random.

Simply keeping up with Lance was a non-trivial challenge in that circumstance, and maintaining the veil at the same time was almost an impossible task. Nonetheless, their invisibility held until she spotted two armed guards coming at them, one from each side. The way they moved suggested her magic wasn’t fooling them.

She hissed, “Incoming.”

“I see them. Knock them down with your magic, and we’ll run for the doors.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Do it.”

She slashed her hand out at the first and sent him skidding back along the floor to crash into an unfortunate couple who had stopped to look up at the information boards. A twist brought her around to face the other, and her fist shot out like a punch. He crumpled, his breath stolen by the fierce blow to his solar plexus. Then she ran after Lance, who was already at the exit.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

They broke outside into the night. The lights of the Zurich HB dispelled the darkness in front of the building enough that it was easy to see the gang of six tough-looking men marching toward them. Aisling's initial satisfaction at the lack of firearms in their hands was quickly offset by the discovery that two had the pointed ears of elves, meaning she wouldn’t be able to handle them with a wave of her hand.

“Magicals, not good.”

“Create a distraction to the left,” Lance instructed.

She threw a fireball into a nearby trashcan, which fell over and rolled. The flames generated shouts and screams from the noncombatants milling about the entrance.

Lance shouted, “Come on,” and ran. Aisling snapped up force shields around them both and followed, pumping a bit of magic into her muscles to keep up with the agent’s longer legs.

He led her into a parking garage, specifically the portion of it dedicated to a rental service. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a key fob. He pressed the button, and a coupe in the middle of the rectangular area beeped its horn and flashed its lights.

“You had a car waiting?”

“Not exactly.”

They reached the car, and both circled to the driver’s seat. “I’m driving,” Aisling insisted.

“No, I am.”

“Driving I can handle. Navigating and having a gunfight with anyone following us, I can’t. Don’t be a meathead.”

He paused as if he would argue, then growled a mild curse and ran to the other side. She climbed in and strapped her seatbelt on. As soon as his door closed, she backed the car out of its spot, hit the gas, and headed for the exit. The lane was barred by a lowered arm attached to a booth with an attendant inside.

She blasted through without stopping. The barrier shattered at the impact, and she breathed a word of thanks that the place hadn’t invested in one of those tire-puncturing things. Her foot kept the accelerator pressed to the floor as she spun the wheel at the end of the lane leading into the station and pulled out onto the main road. She swerved into the right lane to avoid a collision, then remembered that they drove on the wrong side in Switzerland. “Where am I going?” she snapped.

Lance clicked his seatbelt closed. A flicker of amusement at how he must have been trying not to fly out of his seat crossed her mind. “Stay on this street until it intersects with the highway. Then, get on and go east.”

She kept her eyes on the traffic and watched the rear-view mirror while he activated a connection to headquarters.

The infomancer on duty came back, “HQ. What do you need?”

“This is Stone. We were ambushed on the train and again at the station. Looks like serious opposition.”

“Stand by. I’m tracking you now.” A few moments of silence reigned as the streetlights flew by. Aisling had to whip the wheel first left, then right to avoid crashing as they careened through an intersection against the light and spent several dicey seconds trying to bring the car back under control.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Lance growled.

Through gritted teeth, Aisling replied, “Shut it.” For someone who hadn’t driven anything bigger than a motorcycle before she took the defensive driving course Dragonfly offered, she felt she was doing a pretty good job. They reached the highway with no obvious signs of pursuit.

The infomancer returned. “Okay. I’ve got the optimal route mapped out.”

“I see it,” Lance replied. “Thanks. Try to find out how they knew about us.”

“Will do. HQ out.”

“Skip three exits and take the fourth,” he instructed. “We’ll be on back roads from there.”

Her heart had finally returned to its normal pace. “How did they get on to us?”

He shook his head in her peripheral vision. “It doesn’t matter right now. We’ll work on that later if HQ doesn’t figure it out for us first.”

“Hopefully we’ve lost them.”

The tone of his reply didn’t fill her with confidence. “Hopefully.” He was quiet for a moment, then continued, “You did great back there. I think you’ve been holding out on how much fighting experience you have.”

Aisling laughed. “I told you my family fought dirty.”

“You did.”

They discussed what they could have done better as they drove along in an impromptu post-op review. By the time they took the exit from the highway, Aisling felt like they’d adequately handled the challenges they’d faced. She was irritated at abandoning her luggage, though. The clothes were easily replaceable. But the loss of her magical toolkit meant she only had the few items that she always carried in her pockets. I’ll need to see if I can restock wherever we wind up.

When trouble returned, it did so all at once. A drone flew out of nowhere, dipped in front of the car, and flashed a bright light directly in her eyes. She shouted and brought her arm up to block it, but the white-hot flare it left in her vision made it almost impossible to see the road.

Lance shouted too and leaned out to shoot at it. He tucked his head back quickly as bullets struck the car from behind. Lights flicked on to reveal two vehicles trailing them. Aisling snarled as she weaved from side to side to prevent the cars from pulling even with them.

He stuck his arm out the window and fired at the drone with one of their stolen pistols until it clicked empty, with no apparent effect. He emptied another with no more success, then leaned precariously out of the car to shoot at the cars behind them with their last one. His bullets knocked out a headlight but nothing more. Lance fell back inside with a growl. “I’m out.”

“Don’t you have anything heavier?”

“No. We weren’t able to pick up the package that would’ve given us decent weapons because of the people waiting outside the train station.” She’d hoped he would be hiding some cool technology that would save the day, but apparently not.

Aisling considered her options, found one she hated, and cycled through again in search of a different solution. When none presented itself, she said, “Grab the wheel and be ready to move.”

He complied, and asked, “What are you going to do?” His worried tone made her laugh out loud. She grabbed the lever on the side, reclined the seat as far as it would go, tucked her legs up, and rolled them out of the way.

He barked, “You’re insane,” but shifted smoothly over into the driver’s seat.

Aisling clambered over the console and dropped down into the passenger’s seat. “You know, you could’ve at least put your seat back.”

He mimicked her tone. “You know, you could’ve warned me what you were doing.”

“Whiner.”

“If we survive this, you and I are going to have to have a long talk about effective communication.”

Aisling countered, “I’d be surprised if you have the mental capacity for a long talk.” While her mouth was running more or less of its own volition, she readied herself. Her first concern was defense, so she wrapped herself in several layers of force shields. She checked to be sure the door was locked, grabbed the edge of the roof, and pulled herself out to sit on the door. She sighted carefully on the car behind her and prepared to launch a blast of force at it.

Suddenly the car jerked to the left, almost going off the road, and fishtailed in the oncoming traffic lane before getting back into line. Her sole concern during the process was to grip the roof with all her strength.

She shouted, “Maybe effective communication would be to warn someone next time.”

Aisling blasted the nearest car’s front tire with force magic. The impact flattened the rim, and the car flipped end over end. She’d hoped it would take out the second one, but its trajectory carried it off the road to the right instead. The other veered into the left lane and pulled up at an angle that prevented a clear shot.

She grumbled, “This sucks,” then yelled, “Keep the car straight.”

He shouted, “Don’t!” but she was already in motion. She threw a band of force across the top of the car and used it to stabilize herself as she crawled out and crouched. The position provided a clear angle on the other vehicle. Bullets smacked into her shield but didn’t penetrate, and she said a small word of thanks to the universe for not making her pay for the stupidity of assuming they wouldn’t have anti-magic rounds. So, they knew someone was coming, but weren’t aware a magical was involved.

Aisling blasted that car the same way she had the first. As it tumbled away behind her, she shifted around and used her telekinesis to lift the drone up and over the car, then covered it with lightning. It fell out of the sky, trailing a line of sparks, and detonated in a small fireball when it hit the ground. She climbed back into the car and collapsed into the passenger seat. “Well, that sucked.”

Lance shook his head. “You’re verifiably insane, Keane. But I have to say, it’s good to have a magical around to deal with a broken mission.”

She laughed. “It’s not broken. Just bent.”

They entered a tunnel. The protection of the surrounding walls gave her a sense of safety, and some of her tension seeped away. “Good thing you got rid of that drone, or it probably would’ve crushed us in here,” Lance remarked.

They sped out of the tunnel before she could reply. She spotted the two vehicles on the left side of the road, just before someone did to their car what she’d done to the ones following them moments before.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Aisling reacted an instant before the blast struck the vehicle. She used force magic to hold each of them in their seats and wrapped more shields around them to create a bubble. The car flipped up into the air and tumbled sideways again and again. Her ears were filled with the sound of grating metal, and she had to close her eyes against the sparks as it slid on the highway.

Their car came to a halt right-side up. The front end was crushed, and flickers of flame licked around the edges of the battered hood. The windshield had broken away, so Aisling released her force shields for an instant, covered the front of the car with frost to put out the fire, and reestablished her shields.

Lance was already in motion, climbing up and over the steering column to wriggle out in the gap between the dented roof and the hood. He reached back, grabbed her hand, and pulled her with him as he slithered down to the opposite side of the car from where their attackers had been.

Aisling panted, her mind still whirling. The succession of surprise attacks was a new experience for her, and she’d lost track of the overall situation. She was rather more accustomed to seeing enemies before they attacked. A gun barked, and she slapped up a shield on the opposite side of the car. The sound of bullets slamming into the metal continued. The barrage was brutal, and Lance directed her behind one of the rims for added protection. She said, “Anti-magic rounds,” thankful for the earplugs that would allow him to hear her over the noise.

He nodded. “We’re dead if we stay here.”

“I need a distraction.”

“I’ll give you one.” He took a moment to set himself, then ran away from her at an angle to their enemies. He would make an irresistible target, and she hoped the angle would be enough to keep him safe. So don’t waste it, Aisling. Tick-tock.

She rose and used her telekinesis to grab the car’s fender. A quick jerk ripped it off, and another threw it at the one who had blasted their car. The magical stood apart from the men with guns who were shooting at Lance as he ran. She waved her hand and sent a wash of force at the four with the guns. The other magical either hadn’t anticipated it, was distracted by the need to deflect the fender with his magic, or simply didn’t care about his allies. The shooters went down in a tumble.

Aisling charged at her chosen foe. The man threw a bolt of force magic at her, but she nullified it with her own and continued running, only slightly slowed by the attempt. He tried lightning next. She phased her shield and added electricity to it. It prevented the attack from penetrating and provided her a little bump of energy as it drank in the matching power.

When she was about six feet away, the magical gave up on blasting her and pulled out a pair of daggers. The etched blades flashed in the light from the cars on the side of the road. She summoned a force sword as he advanced and used it to block his initial thrust. He followed up with the other dagger, aiming it at her head, and she blocked it with a hard strike to his forearm. Her hope that it would knock the weapon out of his hand was rejected when she met a force shield instead of flesh.

Aisling circled to put the other magical between her and the shooters, who were getting to their feet. Lance entered her vision from the side, behind the men with the guns, running at them from the cover of their parked car. She blocked several more strikes with her sword, something that was difficult given the speed of his dual-handed attacks, and tried a riposte. The magical knocked the blow aside with contempt.

He snarled, “Who are you?”

She laughed grimly. “You’re trying to kill me, and you don’t know who I am. Pretty sure that qualifies you as insane. Maybe you should check into a hospital before I put you in the morgue.”

He lifted his left-hand dagger, pointed it at her, and blasted lightning out of it. She fell to the ground and rolled, letting her sword dissipate in favor of wrapping herself in force and lightning magic. She came up with a scowl. “Dirty trick, scumbag. When we’re done here, I’m taking that knife as payment for the inconvenience.” She had blades she could cast through at home, given to her by her sister, but hadn’t brought them along.

She focused on defense and built up her force shield so it would be adequate against the blades. He’d proven the one in his left hand was enchanted, but since both had appeared etched, she had to assume spells could come from either. That left her with few options, especially as the gunmen had gained their feet. She dashed in close and engaged him hand to hand, accepting the reality that she would probably get cut.

Behind him, Lance had taken on the first of the four. She had no attention to spare to watch the agent as she slammed punches in at her opponent, blasted a knee up toward his torso, and attempted to kick at his feet and shins to knock him down. All she needed was one good connection to distract him, something that would cause him to release his force shield for just a second so she could get a punch in.

He stepped back and stabbed both blades out at her. She twisted to avoid them and continued into a spin. The one in his right hand struck her shield and stopped. The one in his left passed through her magical defense as if it wasn’t there and carved a line along her forearm, through the cardigan’s sleeve, which immediately turned red.

She shouted in pain and finished the spin at ground level. Her foot connected with the force shield blocking his calves, but she’d pumped up her muscles and layered her own shield over the striking surface. The move cut the man’s legs out from underneath him. He landed hard, and she leapt forward to drop an elbow onto his throat.

His immediate roll away saved him. The blow caught his shoulder, but not with any power behind it. She lunged forward and tackled him as he started to get to his feet, slamming him down face-first into the dirt. She had him under control, and for a moment, her attention was drawn to the side where one of the men shot at Lance but only succeeded in hitting an ally.

The magical below her launched them both into the air on a burst of force magic. Aisling twisted awkwardly and used her own magic to cushion her landing. Her foe did the same a dozen feet away. He gave her an arrogant smile and blasted her with lightning again. Her shields were adequate to the barrage, but she realized it was a distraction when he looked over at Lance for an instant.

Aisling knew the magical was going to strike her partner. Only one option bubbled up into her mind, and she sent her own force blast at the agent and knocked him to the ground. Fire shot through the space where he’d been standing a moment later. She charged, trying to get in close again. The fire scythed toward her, and she lost sight of her opponent inside the conflagration.

She added fire to her shield to better defend against his attack and came to the conclusion that she was never going to win this as a standup fight. The gunmen would either finish off Lance, or one of them would get smart and take some shots at her. She circled to her right and stopped at a spot that gave her enemy a clear shot at both her and Lance, guessing his arrogance would make him want her to suffer for fighting him.

The small flicker of a grin crossed his face and his next attack occurred as she expected it to. A blast of shadow magic sped through the intervening space aimed at Lance. She’d already coated him in several layers of shields, sacrificing her own defense to do so, and the strike had no effect. She used the interval of the attack to run in and hit the magical with a lowered shoulder. He staggered, and she grabbed his wrist and twisted it in a way that forced him to bend over.

Her foe tried to resist until the moment she used her magically increased strength to slam her forearm down into the joint and break his elbow. He screamed in pain and his defenses fell. A blast of lightning took him out of the fight, and another ended the threat of the lone gunman still standing.

She jogged over to Lance, who had several cuts on his face and walked like something was wrong with his leg.

“How did you beat him?” he asked.

She grinned. “I fought dirty.”

He shook his head with a laugh and spoke to the infomancer. A minute later, the infomancer reported, “Handler’s on the way.”

“You don’t know any healing spells, do you?”

Aisling sat on the ground, half of it deliberate and the other half her legs collapsing out from underneath her. “No. And my potions were in my suitcase. Traveling with you has not really been an enjoyable time, fake husband.”

He laughed. “Well, maybe it will be better at the hotel.” He raised an eyebrow.

She didn’t even have the remaining energy to threaten him with being turned into a frog.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It took the handler twenty minutes to arrive. Aisling and Lance used that time to secure the prisoners. She claimed the magical’s knives, and they gathered up all the other evidence they found. Unfortunately, that only amounted to a couple of pieces of jewelry. The squad had obviously prepared in advance in case they were captured. None had been killed, which she thought was a positive.

The handler had restraints and duct tape, and they left the attackers bound and gagged on the side of the road after calling in a tip to the local police. Lance carried on a quiet conversation in the front seat while the handler drove, and Aisling reclined in the backseat, one arm resting over her eyes to block out every trace of illumination.

She was as tired as she’d ever been. The possible reasons were many, from the loss of the adrenaline that had fueled her during the fight, to the expenditure of her magic, or maybe simply because it had been a long day. Whatever it was, her faculties were rapidly shutting down.

The handler dropped them off at the hotel, and she stumbled behind Lance into the lobby. They’d both cleaned up a bit at the start of the ride with some packaged wipes, and most signs of the fight were gone. She carried his jacket over her bloody sleeve. He smiled at the desk attendant. “Mr. and Mrs. Ash, checking in. We’re a little late. Transportation issue.”

It was difficult to keep a straight face at the comment, but she managed it by focusing on how tired she was. The man behind the desk nodded and sniffed. His suit, naturally, was perfect. “I’m sorry for your challenges, Mr. Ash. Your room has been paid for in advance, so all I will need is to see your passports.”

When they got upstairs, Aisling groaned at the sight of the single king-size bed. “You did this on purpose.”

Lance laughed. “I didn’t. Apparently, they think married couples should sleep together. How crazy is that, right?” He examined his suit jacket and threw it on the floor. “The handler will bring us clothes in the morning. There’s a robe inside the bathroom for each of us. Go ahead, you can shower first.”

Aisling complied, lacking any other good ideas. When she came back out, she found he had built a mountain of pillows between the two sides of the bed. She laughed. “How gallant.”

He grinned. “I know. I’m like that. Besides, just between you and me, I’m in a moderately serious relationship.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you agent types had to be ready to go, so to speak, at a moment’s notice.”

“If the operation demanded it, I would do my bit for Queen and Country, don’t get me wrong. Well, for the Dragon, anyway.”

“You’re destroying my illusions here.”

“Are you making a pass at me?”

She waved a tired arm. “Good heavens no. Go shower. And stay on your half of the bed. Or I’ll turn you into a frog.” She crawled under the covers on her side of the barrier and was asleep in minutes.

* * *

Aisling woke up many hours later, yawned, and asked, “What time is it?”

Lance’s reply came from across the room where he was sitting on a chair, looking out the open balcony door. “Five in the evening. You must have been tired.”

She yawned again and clutched the robe around her. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Dinner at eight. We want to get a look at our target, and according to the hotel’s reservation system, which was pretty easy to hack into, he’ll be there.”

“Will he recognize you?”

Lance shrugged. “He shouldn’t. I don’t think we’ve come into contact before.”

Another yawn overtook her suddenly. “Well. Clearly, I require some coffee.”

“I’ll order it.”

“And some clothes.”

He laughed. “You’ll find a bag in the bathroom. It should have everything you need for tonight.”

She rose and headed toward it. “If I find sexy lingerie in there, you’re a dead man.”

Lance raised his hands. “Hey, I’m not in charge of what the handler does.”

“I said what I said.” She luxuriated in a long shower and emerged to retrieve coffee wearing an acceptable pair of running shorts and a long T-shirt. Both were more stylish than anything she owned. Lance had ordered some toast as well, and she munched on a piece, realizing how hungry she was. “Thanks for the food.”

He came over and sat at the table with her. “It’s easy to forget to eat when you’re out on a mission. Important rule of being a field agent. Eat, because you never know if the next meal will come or not.”

“That’s dark.”

He laughed. “I actually only meant that you might be too busy to eat, but sure, be fatalistic about it.”

Aisling shook her head with a smile. “James Bond was never as goofy as you.”

“I’m not an emotionless sociopath.”

“Jury’s out on that one. And I’ve never really loved that description of Bond, either. He felt. He just had the ability to switch it off when he had to.”

Lance shrugged. “While discussing the metaphysics of fictional secret agents with you would be fun, it’s my turn to shower. They dress up for dinner here.”

“Yeah, I saw. The dress is kind of, uh, clingy. And daring.”

He grinned. “Handler’s fault.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I have to wear a tuxedo.”

She tossed a piece of toast at his head. “Unless it shows a lot of skin, there’s no justice in the world.”

Once he came out in his tux, she went in, slid into her dress, and put on her makeup. The shoes weren’t a perfect fit, but at least the heels weren’t all that high. The handler had provided a clutch purse, but she didn’t have anything to put in it other than her phone.

They exited the room together and rode the elevator down with a couple of people who gave them lingering looks. Aisling met the stare of the woman, who looked away. She couldn’t fault them, though. Lance was perfectly handsome in his tuxedo, almost like a movie star on the red carpet. Her dress was black sequins with a slash of scarlet that coiled around her, starting on her left shoulder and wrapping all the way to the back. It was short enough that she had to keep herself from pulling at the bottom. It reached mid-thigh, but she wouldn’t have minded another inch or two.

When they entered the restaurant, she had to admit that the handler, if Lance was to be believed, had chosen the right outfit for her. Everyone was overdressed. The place itself was a sea of perfect white tablecloths, glittering glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and pastel colors adorning the walls. Exposed wood accented the room in many locations, all highly polished to a light brown. The man they were interested in, Gunther Becker, was at a table in the corner. He was dressed in a sharp suit, as he had been in all the pictures she’d seen in preparation for the op.

A host in a less attractive tuxedo than her companion took them to their table. A server appeared immediately to ask what main course they’d like. She chose salmon again, and Lance selected a steak, medium-rare. The rest of the menu was apparently not up for discussion.

The appetizer arrived artfully displayed on a wooden cutting board—fruit, cheeses, crackers, and some smoked meat. She nibbled on a slice of Havarti and made a mental note to add fake fingernails to her travel kit if she was going to do this often, as her short-clipped ones were more for function than form.

At a lull in the conversation, Lance said, “Is that who I think it is, Thomas?”

The infomancer in their earpieces replied, “Affirmative.”

“Hell.”

Aisling asked, “Who is it?”

Lance brought his napkin up to block his lips. “Jameson Hart, from SIS.”

She looked at him blankly. “Huh?”

He offered a tense smile. “MI6.”

“Oh. Gotcha.”

“What the hell is he doing here?”

“I don’t have any data,” Thomas admitted. “But you should probably find out.”

Lance leaned over to her. “If he’s here, that means his agency has something in play. Too big a coincidence for it to be about anything other than our target. So, our plan to take it slow is trashed. I’m going to go chat with him and see if I can discover what he’s up to. You’re going to go break into Becker’s room.”

Aisling blinked. “I’m doing what now?”

He gave her the thin smile again. “You heard me. We’re rolling with it. Go search the target’s room. If you can do it without leaving any traces, so much the better.” He stood, put a more genuine-looking smile on his face, and headed for another table deeper in the dining room.

Well, hell. Aisling grabbed another piece of cheese, shoved it in her mouth, and stood. She looked around, checked her clutch purse as if she was looking for something, then sighed and headed for the exit. She smiled at the host standing next to the door. “Back in a minute. Left my phone upstairs.”

When she reached the lobby, she raised a hand to cover her mouth as if she was touching up her lipstick. “All right, Thomas, I’m going to need your help with this.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

When Aisling got in the elevator, the voice in her ear reported, “His room is on the eighteenth floor.”

“Can you unlock fire doors for me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, get me to the nearest floor with an area that’s out of camera view. A few feet will do. Also, I need an image of the uniforms worn by housekeeping.”

Several seconds passed as she nervously watched the floor indicator tick up. Then Thomas reported, “Okay. I’ve got one on twenty.” Aisling had initially pressed the top floor to get the lift moving, so now she pushed the twentieth. It opened, and she walked out with a purpose, then turned right at the direction of the infomancer.

He routed her to an area with soda and snack machines like she’d seen in other hotels. This one also had a cigar vending machine, which she supposed represented the elite nature of the place. The listed prices did, anyway. Her phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her purse.

Two images of the housekeeping uniform were on the screen, one from the front and the other from the back. The figure in each of the shots was different. Aisling slipped on her wooden rings that had been hidden in her clutch and cast an illusion that would let her fit in with the staff. She carried the purse, now disguised, in her left hand as she walked out onto the floor as if she belonged there. “Can you unlock the rooms?”

The infomancer replied, “Not without tripping security. It would take more time than you have.”

“Okay, plan B then.” Aisling reached the staircase at the end of the hall and descended two floors. When she opened it on eighteen, she spotted a housekeeping cart a short distance away. Finally, some luck. Her plan depended on finding a way into the room, and housekeeping could get anywhere.

She slowed her steps as much as was reasonable in the hope that whoever owned that cart would emerge from wherever they were working. More good luck came her way as a man stepped out of the room and threw a bunch of laundry into the cart. Aisling smiled and greeted him in German, and he responded in kind. That was the extent of her knowledge of the language, unfortunately, and his expression turned quizzical as she approached him.

Thomas spoke unfamiliar words, and she repeated them phonetically. The housekeeper smiled again, seemingly reassured, and rattled off a response. Thomas instructed her to nod, so she did. Aisling brushed up close against the man as she passed and gave him a flirtatious look with her illusory features. At the same time, she used her telekinesis to knock a bottle of shampoo off the cart and then to disconnect his ID badge from the lanyard that held it and bring it to her right hand as he bent over to pick up the fallen item. She hid it with her magic and kept walking.

“Well done,” Thomas remarked.

Aisling looked up at the camera in the ceiling and muttered, “Hating this.”

Thomas laughed. “Well, like it or not, you seem good at it.”

The target’s room was around a corner, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the empty corridor ahead. She walked to the room, knocked on Becker’s door, and called, “Housekeeping,” in German, again supplied by the infomancer. No one answered. Aisling opened it with her stolen ID tag and moved inside, ready to blast anyone who might be hiding within. No opponents were visible, so she closed the door behind her and threw both security latches. “Okay, I’m in. What the hell do I do now? How’s Lance?”

Thomas replied, “Lance is fine. Trading verbal jabs with Hart. You should look around for anything that might provide us with information about our target.”

“Wow. So specific. Thanks.” The room was expansive, though not a full suite. A large dressing area was on her left, with an open bathroom door beyond it. To the right was a walk-in closet, mostly empty except for a few suits hanging on the rack and clothes in the dresser. Aisling rummaged through them, found nothing, and headed into the main area. A wall on her right continued to a door that presumably led into the bedroom. The rest of the place was a combination of living room and office, with couches, chairs, and an impressive work desk on the far side.

She added a light sheen of force magic to her fingers, crossed to the desk, and lifted the notepad to the light to examine it. It had no indentations, so he hadn’t written on it and torn a sheet off. No computer was present, although she saw a data port in the desk. Presumably, the desk held one of those holographic machines that would come to life if you put storage or an ID into it. She lacked both of those things.

Aisling scowled and checked along the television to see if any additional hardware had been added. Nothing there, either. In increasing frustration, she patted down the couches and chairs, but nothing revealed itself. The infomancer whispered in her ear, “Tick tock, tick tock.”

She hissed, “Are you always a jerk, or is this something you do special for me?”

A chuckle sounded over the line. “Pretty much all the time. Don’t let it bother you.”

“I know where your office is.”

“Cold.”

Aisling managed a smile at the response and moved into the gorgeous bedroom. It contained a king-size, or maybe larger, bed that took up the right-hand area. Mirrors hung on all the surrounding surfaces, including the ceiling, and the idea of sleeping with so many reflections of herself sent a shudder through her.

The rest of the space held a couch, another television, and a sliding glass door that led out onto a balcony with a gorgeous view of Zurich. “Holy hell. How much does this room cost?”

“This is definitely an ‘If you have to ask, you can’t afford it,’ sort of moment.”

“I want to live like this.” In truth, she didn’t, although maybe vacationing like this wouldn’t be too bad.

Aisling searched the couches and the bed. Still nothing. With a sigh, she checked the last places she could think of other than the bath, figuring he would put anything valuable in the more immediately accessible areas. Inside the nightstand drawer, she found a book, and inside the book she discovered a rectangular piece of material that looked like paper, presumably being used as a bookmark in the thriller novel she’d found it in. But when she touched it, it felt wrong.

“This could be something.”

“Put it close to your phone,” the infomancer instructed.

Aisling frowned as she complied. “Why?”

“I’m going to hack your phone as a bridge to see what signals the thing might be sending out.”

“You can do that?”

He laughed. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Stay out of my search history.”

Thomas gave a distracted snort. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secrets.”

Aisling didn’t have much to hide, but she would prefer that no one see any of her research on the construction of her mechanical dragon. It was also possible that she’d done a little shopping and forgotten to erase the evidence.

After a few minutes, he cursed. “Yeah. It’s something. But I can’t get into it.”

“What do you want me to do?”

His tone registered frustration. “Take it. Trash the room. Throw the book out over the balcony right before you go. Maybe it will cost them some time and energy trying to figure out if the stolen item was lost. Toss a couple of other things over, too. Clothes, maybe.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah. We need that thing, and we need to hide that we took that specific thing. Confusion to our enemies.”

“Okay. Destruction happens to be my specialty.”

She cast a spell to deaden the sounds leaving the room, partitioned off part of her mind to maintain it, and used her magic to flip things over, rip the mattresses off the bed, and hurl the nightstands across the bedroom. As she tore the monitors off the wall, she started to enjoy herself and broke all the other stuff that looked easily damaged. Before she left, she tossed the book and all of his suits over the balcony railing.

That done, she cast a veil around herself, opened the door, and walked out. Once she was inside the staircase, she said, “Find me a place where I can come back into view outside camera range.”

The infomancer replied in the darkest voice she’d heard from him, “We don’t have time for that. You better get downstairs fast.”

His tone caused her to take the stairs several at a time, as quickly as she could without falling. “What’s wrong?”

“Something’s not right with Lance. His comm’s not transmitting, but I can see through his lens. He’s walking toward the front door and blinking the danger code.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Aisling hit the ground floor, dispelled her magic, and opened the door to the lobby. She forced herself to walk at a casual pace. She’d tucked the card into her waistband under the dress and carried the clutch purse in her left hand. Despite her worry for Lance, she couldn’t keep the corner of her mouth from twitching up at the sight of their target heading for the elevators. He was in for a surprise when he got up to his room, that was for sure.

As she emerged from the hotel, she spotted Lance being pushed into the back seat of a car just before it pulled away. She turned so they wouldn’t see her face and asked, “What should I do?”

“I’m not sure there’s anything you can do,” Thomas replied.

“All right then. I’ll improvise. Keep me updated on where they’re going.” She kicked off her shoes, coated her feet with force magic, and ran in the direction the car had driven. She angled into an alley and used more force magic to blast herself up to the roof of the nearby building. It wasn’t nearly as high as the hotel was, and she landed easily and ran toward the car.

“They’re driving parallel to you,” Thomas reported. “But they’ve got a good lead.”

Aisling growled, “For now.” She pumped magic into her muscles to increase her speed. Fortunately, the streets were small enough and the buildings sufficiently close together that she was able to make magic-assisted leaps from one to the next as she pursued the car. If it had been trying to reach a highway, she wouldn’t have had a chance. But the updates in her ear told her it was instead meandering toward an industrial part of the city.

Aisling was breathing harder now, and snarled a small internal curse at the proof that Delsanra's opinion about the consequences of letting her training slip was correct. She angled in the direction of the warehouse district and was rewarded when they turned in that direction. Her whole being was focused on running and doing what she could to hoard her magic and muscle power, which required the sacrifice of a little of her top speed to keep some energy left in the tank. She groaned inwardly. I should always have healing and energy potions. Idiot.

She’d have to think about that for future adventures, assuming she was allowed back into the field again after this debacle, but for now she kept her head down and simply ran, all her attention focused on the next building in line and the directions coming in her ear.

After fifteen minutes of ever-slower running, she stopped and panted. A garage door was just closing on a warehouse about half a block away. She took a deep breath that didn’t help much at all and performed the jumps necessary to reach that roof. Consistent with her luck over the last day or two, it had neither skylights nor obvious access to the building.

She asked, “Any windows?”

“None that I can see on the blueprints. Looks like there’s a door and a garage door on the long sides, and that’s it.”

“If we survive this, I’m going to kill Lance.”

He snorted softly. “You’re not the first person to say those words.”

“I can imagine. Okay.” Aisling paused to consider her options for a moment. “Obviously I need to get in. What’s the best way to do that undetected?”

“Probably the door on the other side of the building from where they drove in, if you can get it open.”

“Any cameras on that side?”

“No information on that.”

She raked her fingers back through her sweaty hair. “Damn it.”

Thomas clarified, “You don’t have the right gear and his isn’t activated. All I’ve got is the feed from his lens.”

Suspicion poked at her from the corner of her mind. “Do you think they left that running on purpose? Is it a trap?”

“I doubt it. It’s fairly new tech, and I’m not sure anyone else has it yet.”

“Then I guess it’s time to go.” Aisling blasted herself over to a different building, dropped down its opposite side, and used force magic to control her landing. She summoned a veil around herself and jogged to the door in question, thankful that both vehicle and pedestrian traffic were largely nonexistent.

She tried turning the handle, but it didn’t move, naturally. Her hand wrapped around the handle, and she coated it with frost magic. When it was ice cold, she used her telekinesis to push the door inward. The frozen latch holding it closed shattered, and she snuck inside.

The warehouse was dark and dusty. Weak lights hung from the roof a couple of stories above. High pallets of boxes were arranged in rows, and all the printed information on them was written in German. Aisling didn’t bother asking for interpretation, and Thomas didn’t provide it. Mocking laughter sounded from her right, and she skirted the outer wall as she moved in that direction.

In anticipation of having to release her veil, she cast an illusion to darken her skin, change her hair and eye color, and make her face look like a girl she’d gone to school with. Her clothes changed their appearance as well, to generic jeans, sweatshirt, and sneakers. A guard appeared at the far corner, in street clothes and carrying a rifle, and walked in her direction.

Aisling crouched, set herself, and waited for him to get near. When he was three feet away, she extended her veil around him so the sound of her attack wouldn’t be heard. She stepped forward and punched him in the solar plexus without warning. His breath exploded out of him and he bent over. He maintained the presence of mind to swing the rifle at her. She whipped her left arm upward to deflect the butt of the weapon and kicked him in the groin. He gasped without air and crumpled.

She released the veil, put her fingers on his temple, discharged enough electricity to put him out, then reactivated the veil and stayed frozen, listening. No one seemed to have reacted to her actions. Aisling crept forward again until she reached the end of the row, then turned left and moved until she saw what was generating the noises she’d been hearing.

Lance was seated in a metal chair with his arms and legs duct taped to it. The chair was bolted to the floor, or it likely would’ve fallen over from whatever indignities had caused the large bruises on his face. He was blindfolded, which was probably why she’d gotten no updates about him from Thomas. They’d ripped off his coat, and his shirt was stained red. She whispered, “He’s got a lot of blood on the right side of his chest. He’s tied to a chair that’s attached to the floor.”

“How many of them are there?”

“Five with him. One is the guy. Hart. The others look like thugs. Another is probably scouting the other side.”

“Weapons?”

“I’ve seen a rifle. Two of the thugs have pistols. One has a baseball bat.”

Thomas sounded reluctant when he suggested, “You should get out of there.”

She hissed, “Not gonna happen. Say something useful.”

The infomancer released a heavy sigh, then refocused. “Okay. I have no idea how to get him away from them. But when you do, portal to the transport center. I’ll let them know you’re coming, and the trauma team will be on hand to stabilize him and portal him directly into an emergency room.”

“Got it. Anything else you can do to help?”

“Sorry. The building has no systems I can get into.”

Unexpectedly, Aisling found herself grinning. “Okay then. A down-and-dirty fight. Way more fun than all this sneaking about.” She released the veil, layered force shields around herself, and ran forward. Once again, she wished she’d brought her swords, and a corner of her mind wondered if there was a way to make a collapsible version she could carry secretly. That thought got shoved into the mental box labeled, “Think about that later, doofus,” as she broke out of cover.

She blasted them all with a wide slash of lightning that dropped the four thugs to writhe on the ground but didn’t knock them out. The SIS agent spun to her, seeming unhurt by the magic. Hart gave her an arrogant smile. “I thought he was with someone, but figured it was only a handler.”

He drew and aimed his pistol at her in one smooth and speedy movement. He was fast enough that he managed to pull the trigger, but she was fast too and grabbed the weapon and yanked it away with her telekinesis. She flicked it toward the far wall of the building.

Hart frowned. “Not fair.” His left hand came up, and the motion told her something dangerous was about to occur. She dove to the side and narrowly avoided four darts that stuck into the pallet above her. She rolled up to her feet and reached out with her telekinesis again. It latched onto one of the industrial hanging lights, pulled on it, and brought it crashing down toward him.

Hart dodged out of the way and picked up one of the thugs’ fallen guns. The four men had gotten to their feet, but instead of supporting the SIS agent they had run away. Aisling ducked into the row between two pallets as bullets smacked into the one in front of her.

“Enough of this.” She leaned out far enough to get the angle, grabbed Lance’s chair with her magic, and yanked it hard. Her strength was greater than the bolts’ resistance, and it slid across the floor toward her. She threw a force wall in front of him, just in case Hart lacked anti-magic rounds. He didn’t, and Lance took a hit in the left shoulder before she got him out of range.

She opened a portal, dragged him through into the transport room, and slammed it shut behind them. The promised assistance was waiting. She pushed up Lance’s blindfold, but his head lolled, and his eyes were closed. A medic shouldered her out of the way, and her last sight of him was as they wheeled him on a gurney into a hospital operating room. She only realized that Annika had been present when she saw the woman on the other side as the portal collapsed and shut Aisling out.

She looked at the remaining transport technician. He met her eyes and shrugged. “Every day is an adventure here at Dragonfly, right?”

Aisling sagged as adrenaline and energy ran away from her. “Yeah. Maybe I need a little less adventure in my life.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Aisling spent all the next workday waiting for word on Lance. None came until four o’clock, and by then, she was beside herself with worry. Annika entered the room looking more tired than she’d ever seen the other woman.

“Sorry for not getting back to you. It was touch and go for most of the night. They shot him in the chest and shoulder, and he’d lost a lot of blood. But the doctors say he’ll be good as new after a few months of recovery and therapy.”

Aisling exhaled a long sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I hardly slept for worrying.”

The other woman nodded. “I didn’t, so I hear you. Anyway, it’s all good news. You don’t have to worry about a debrief. We talked to Thomas Scott and got the details. Once Lance is ready to talk, we’ll go over it with both of you at the same time.”

Aisling wanted to ask questions, but Annika turned and marched out immediately after sharing the information.

“Well, that’s good news,” Victoria offered. “Now, go get changed. We’re going out tonight, remember?”

Aisling protested, “You know, after such a long day—” but was instantly interrupted.

“No. No, no, no. You are coming out. You said you would, and now you’re going to. Did you bring appropriate attire?”

“I did.”

“Then go and change into it.” Aisling opened her mouth to reply, but Victoria lifted a hand. “No words. Only action. Shoo.” She made a flapping motion with her hand, and Aisling gave up. When she returned to the workspace, she was in a pair of black slacks, boots with a modest heel on them, and a sparkly red blouse. She’d also put on extra makeup and a silver link chain necklace with a tree of life symbol dangling from it.

Victoria whistled. “See? I knew you could dress up nice if you tried. I’ll get changed, and we’ll go.” It wasn’t the first time they’d gone out after work, but tonight had more to it than just a drink or a meal. The first planned stop was at a bar for drinks and a snack before moving on to a nightclub to dance. Aisling and Victoria had the love of dancing in common, although it was certain her friend would spend much of the night working her information-gathering skills on anyone she found remotely interesting.

The boyfriend hadn’t been mentioned yet that day, so Aisling figured Victoria was at least open to other options. When she returned, they headed out to Victoria Square, where Oliver and Mia were waiting for them. They were both dressed up as well. He had on a gray suit with those skinny trousers the hip people wore, but no tie over his purple shirt. She wore a dress that left her shoulders, arms, and her legs below mid-thigh bare except for jewelry and some boots Aisling was immediately jealous of. Both also had big smiles.

“I told you I’d get her to come,” Victoria crowed.

Mia nodded. “You did. I still didn’t believe you.”

“Well, now you know better.” Victoria sniffed as if insulted, then grinned. “All right. Off we go.” They walked several blocks into the entertainment area of Birmingham. None of them had been to the bar before, and Aisling looked around in fascination once inside. She’d thought the name, “The Space Bar,” was funny when she’d heard it, and had imagined it would be filled with old computer stuff, or maybe older typewriters.

Instead, it was the other version of space. Toy rocket ships hung from the ceiling. The walls were all painted with stars and astronomical images, and several televisions displayed shots of space missions and launches. The decor had the perfect mix of posh and kitsch, and she loved it immediately.

They claimed four seats in a row at the bar, with Aisling on one end next to Victoria. Drinks were ordered and delivered. Aisling got something called a Bottle Rocket that tasted like candy. An instant later, the alcohol hit her, and she reclassified it as intense candy.

“So, I’ve heard all the factual details of your adventure with Lance,” Victoria began. “Now tell me the steamy stuff. Did you make out on the train?”

Aisling coughed on her drink. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I would have.”

“Really?”

Victoria laughed. “Made out with him? Sure. He’s sexy, smart, and I bet he gives great hugs.”

Aisling rolled her eyes with a laugh. “I was trying to maintain at least some level of professionalism, apparently something with which you are not concerned.”

Her friend’s grin widened. “So, stringing him along and building up his interest. How manipulative. I love it.”

She slapped her lightly on the arm. “You’re incorrigible. None of the above. Completely professional the whole time.” Then, simply to tweak Victoria, she added, “We did sleep together though.”

The other woman’s mouth dropped open, then she scowled. “You’re a jerk. You’re using that in the literal sense of you slept at the same time, right?”

“And in the same bed. But it was a big bed. He put up a wall of pillows between us.”

Victoria put on a sad pout. “So much wasted opportunity. We really need to talk about your priorities.”

The conversation shifted to other things as their appetizers arrived and they passed food back and forth. After two rounds, they left and people-watched as they walked to the nightclub Victoria had selected. It was simply called “Cataclysm,” and had a line in front of it. They spent twenty-five minutes chatting in a small circle before the bouncer admitted them into the club. The interior was dark, with thick smoke from a machine drifting through the air. It made her cough.

She noted the neon around the periphery of the place. It would have been lost in the lights that cascaded over the dance floor, the bright spot in the darkness. They made their way to one of the bars and engaged in some more people-watching, this time of the dancers on the multicolor lit-up floor.

Victoria spotted someone she wanted to talk to and wandered off, followed shortly by Oliver, who said that dancing wasn’t his thing and headed up to the top floor balcony to join the other voyeurs. Aisling turned to Mia. “What’s your opinion about dancing?”

The other woman grinned. “Love it. But I warn you, I’m usually the center of attention.”

Aisling laughed. “I’m happy to be in your shadow, oh great one.”

“Not quite what I mean. You’ll see. Come on.”

The first song passed without any indication of what the infomancer meant. But at the start of the second, a throbbing dance hall tune, Mia’s exoskeleton began to glow. After thirty seconds of that, it started to flash in time with the music. Aisling laughed, and Mia moved closer to her, turning it into a two-person dance. Now she understood what her companion had meant.

The others made a circle around them as Aisling danced with the technologically enhanced woman. It was unreal, but perfect. The lights were so mesmerizing that Aisling's eyes stayed on them, and she lost the sensation of being in a crowd, and just enjoyed herself. It stayed that way for probably seven songs, although the crowd joined them after the first, before she gave up, laughing, and begged for a break and something to drink.

They made their way back to the bar, where she ordered a soda, and Mia did the same. They found a spot on the wall they could lean against while watching the revelers. Aisling said, “That was really cool. You’re a great dancer.”

Mia laughed. “Even if I wasn’t good, people would still think I was because of all the visual effects. But yeah, I’m not bad. I dance a lot at home by myself.”

“Me too.”

They talked for a while, and then the conversation turned to business. “How were you recruited?” Aisling asked.

Mia replied, “Right out of college. Before I finished, in fact. I did my advanced degree while working for the organization.”

“Yeah. Annika had mentioned watching the universities.”

“They’re pretty serious about that. All over the world, as I understand it.”

Aisling nodded. “Lance said something about that. He’s from the United States and they recruited him there. Though not at a university.”

“I’m glad he’s going to be okay. And you’ll probably wind up being the first magical investigator to make it to field agent.”

Aisling lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe someday. I wouldn’t call my experiences so far a rousing success. Other investigators have been promoted?”

Mia nodded. “The divisions are basically advanced testing for field agent. The organization doesn’t hire anyone at entry level who lacks that potential. Well, except in infomancy and transportation. We just need to be skilled and reliable.”

“I have to say that the last couple of days have been pretty weird. I’m a technomancer at heart.”

The infomancer’s eyes perked up at that information. “Oh? Are you working on a specific project?”

“Not for the organization. But I am building my own mechanical dragon.”

“I would love to see it.”

Aisling cocked her head to the side. “Really?”

Mia nodded. “Definitely.”

She grinned. “We’ll totally make that happen then.”

They ended the night at a restaurant where each of them ordered breakfast food. Everyone was tired, and conversation was sparse and halting. What words were shared happened mainly between bites and sips of coffee. It surprised her when Oliver leaned over to her and said, “I heard about the object you snagged in Zurich. We’re getting some data out of it now.”

She replied, “You are?”

He nodded. “Only on the top layer so far, but it looks like it’ll be something useful.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. I look forward to you telling me more about it tomorrow, when I’m awake.”

Victoria groaned. “Today. And you’re not likely to hear much about it. Because, remember, Fridays are for training.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Aisling had hoped the brisk walk from her apartment to the Council House would wake her up. After passing through security, she headed for the café in the hope that coffee would succeed where sleep and exercise had failed. She navigated the patrolling guards, dodged the tourists, and handed Victoria her cup with a big yawn.

Her friend said, rightly, “You’re going to need to work on your endurance to have any chance at a real social life.”

Aisling groaned. “I think I’m all funned out.”

Victoria laughed. “Oh, honey, we’re just getting started.”

She took a deep drink of her coffee, hoping it would kick her mind into gear so she could offer a worthy reply. Instead, the door to their area swished open and Annika walked in. It was strange to see her in simple trousers and blouse, with her brown hair falling over her shoulders. “Aisling, come with me, please.”

Aisling’s coffee remained miraculously unspilled when she slammed it down and lurched out of her chair. She looked at Victoria, who gave a slight shake of her head to indicate that she didn’t know what this was about, either. Her footsteps quickened as she closed the distance to her superior, who led her down to the transportation area. As they waited for several other people to step through portals, Aisling asked, “What’s going on?”

Annika turned to her with a smile. “Fridays are for training.”

Aisling didn’t hear the instructions Annika gave the transport tech, but the portal delivered them onto a street she didn’t recognize. It looked like an old city, and she recognized German writing, if not the words, on the sides. Great. The language I speak least well. Again.

Annika led her to a streetside restaurant, where Aisling discovered her superior knew the language fluently when she ordered espresso for both of them. Their drinks came almost immediately, and while they sipped, Annika tilted her head to the right, toward the buildings on the other side of the street. “The first floor of that building is a legitimate business, an antique store. The second floor is the office of a lawyer who does a lot of sketchy work with countries we’re not too fond of.”

Aisling took in the information, but still had no idea what it had to do with her. “Okay.”

Annika smiled, probably at her dubious expression. “It’s possible that the people working in the antique store are cooperating with him. The top level, interestingly, has long been rented out by the SIS and is presumably surveilling the other two. The only way to get to the second and third floors is by a staircase from the first. No fire escapes, no easy access to the building from the roof.”

Aisling nodded. “And you’re telling me this why?”

“Glad the caffeine is finally kicking in. Originally, we’d planned for Lance to handle this operation. Since you were working with him when he got hurt, you’ve inherited the challenge.”

“Is that standard procedure?”

Her superior smiled. “Not really.”

A slight frown turned her lips down. “Is this actually training?”

Annika leaned back and made a noncommittal gesture with her right hand. “I imagine you’ll learn something from it.”

Aisling's mind had finally caught up to the moment and the realization that she was being asked to do real work. “They won’t have electronic weapons, I’m guessing?”

“They won’t have any weapons, most likely.”

Aisling finished her coffee and set the cup down carefully. “You fill me with confidence.”

The other woman smirked. “Good.” She reached into her bag and slid a small case across the table. Aisling snagged it before it fell off the edge. “You’ve got infomancy support. Use it wisely. Don’t get caught.”

Aisling opened the case, removed the earpiece, and casually lifted a hand to her ear to slide the earplug inside. When it was done, she slid the container back to her superior. “You’re enjoying this. I don’t think I like you too much.”

Annika laughed. “It took you a month longer to say that out loud than it did my last couple of recruits. I must be getting soft. Good luck.”

As Aisling stood and moved toward the street, she heard Annika order another coffee, which suggested she intended to stick around, maybe as backup. She banished the part of her brain that was still worried about the why of the situation. It couldn’t help her with the mission, so it didn’t matter. She assessed the building as she walked toward it and discovered no additional useful information beyond what Annika had provided. “HQ, you there?”

Oliver replied, “Affirmative.”

“Just checking.” Her first goal was to get past the antique shop. She walked inside, smiled, and greeted the worker at the front desk with her few words of German. The other woman answered in English, “Welcome.” Aisling wandered through the store and looked around. She bent to look at several objects and removed one carefully from the shelf to peer at it in the light.

Her first idea had been to make her move when someone else came in to distract the worker. After a few minutes of browsing, it became clear that the shop was not the most popular place on the street. She waited for the worker to look away and stepped into a spot where she couldn’t be seen. A word and a gesture created an illusion of herself, and she partitioned part of her mind off to maintain it as it moved toward the exit.

Another spell summoned a veil to obscure her real self, and she stepped out to where she could clearly see the front door. When her illusion reached for the door handle, she used her telekinesis to turn it and open the door. Her simulacrum walked out, and the worker naturally watched it do so. In that instant, Aisling hurried to the back door, opened it, and slipped through, all under the cover of her veil, which made it look as if nothing had happened at all.

Aisling closed the door and waited to see if she’d been discovered. After several seconds, she let out a long breath. She focused her mind again and walked carefully up the stairs, eyes peeled for traps or sensors along the way. The only defenses she saw were the cameras in the corners, and they wouldn’t notice her under her magical concealment. She bypassed the office at the second-floor landing and climbed up another level instead. The door had a deadbolt and a keypad. She whispered, “HQ.”

Oliver’s voice came back. “Here.”

“Got a keypad.”

“I don’t have a video feed from you.”

Aisling reminded him, “Investigator. Not an agent.”

He snorted. “I would’ve thought you, of all people, would carry the proper tools into the field.”

“Not if someone drops me in on a mission with no warning and no equipment.”

“You’ve got your phone. Hold it up to the keypad.” She did so, and a moment later, one deadbolt slipped back. She reached in with her telekinesis and forced the other one, then opened the door and rushed in. It was a single large room with two desks. Two men were inside, and they looked up in shock as she dropped the veil.

Aisling took out the first with a blast of lightning before he could get out of his chair, and arrived at the desk as the second pulled a gun out of a drawer. She grabbed the weapon with her left hand, shoved her index finger behind the trigger so he couldn’t pull it, and tapped his temple with her other hand. Lightning sparked, and he crumpled.

Two tablets lay on the desks. The men had probably been working on them when she entered, but she hadn’t noticed. All she’d seen was targets that required attention. She made a mental note to take them with her and searched the room. It was largely barren of anything interesting, but a closet had a false panel, behind which was a small safe with a keypad, rotary number wheel, and biometric lock.

Aisling magically amplified her hearing and listened for the tumblers as she spun the wheel. They were audible, which meant that with enough time, she could defeat that lock. She asked, “I’ve got a keypad and a biometric lock on a safe. Can you get through it?”

“Not with the tech you have. It will be exponentially more complicated than the door was, and your phone doesn’t provide the bandwidth I need.” He bit off a casual curse. “I hate leaving a safe unopened. It goes against my general principles.”

The comment made her laugh. “Well, complain to Annika. Don’t whine at me.”

“I plan to.”

She returned to the desk and lifted a tablet. It was still active and showed an angle from above of an office separated by a wall from a small reception area. A woman sat at a desk in the latter. “Looks like the lawyer is out, but his secretary is in.” While she had no issue with having blasted the SIS people who had signed up for such treatment by virtue of their choice of employer, she felt differently about the secretary, who might not know that her boss was a goon.

“Call her and tell her there’s a delivery on the first floor she has to sign for. Wait, do you speak German?”

Oliver laughed. “My system does. No worries.” Aisling veiled herself and moved down the stairs to a position where she could watch the outer door to the lawyer’s office. As the secretary walked out, Aisling used her telekinesis to keep the latch from engaging when the door swung closed. Once the other woman was out of sight, she snuck in and grabbed several pencils out of the cup on the woman’s desk, along with a legal pad that sat there.

She used force magic to wedge the items between the door and the frame to ensure it wouldn’t open to anything short of a mighty push. The outer office was simple and clean, with wooden floors and trim accenting crumbling plaster walls. The door to the lawyer’s inner office was unlocked, and she closed it behind her.

His space was more polished than his secretary’s. The walls each held a large painting— one portrait, one landscape, and two of trains. A small bar cart stood under the room’s biggest window. A quick search of his desk revealed nothing interesting. She growled with annoyance, then whispered a spell. “Hidden, unbidden, reveal, don’t conceal.” She couldn’t resist the grin that the words from her childhood always summoned. As the magic took effect, her eye was drawn to a picture that, upon examination, turned out to be hinged on one side. Pulling it open revealed a safe with just a simple dial.

Aisling again used her magic to amplify the sound and worked the wheel with slow turns until she heard the tumblers fall into place. She withdrew the file folders inside, set them on the desk, and took pictures of each item in them. This guy is seriously old school.

About a third of the way through, the rattle of the outer door refusing to open signaled the secretary’s return. A few moments after that, she heard two voices talking, followed by another attempt to breach the door. Her impromptu wedges held it tight as she finished with the pictures, returned the folders to the safe, and locked it again.

The sounds from the hallway had fallen off. Aisling picked up the tablets from where she’d placed them, walked to the outer office, and removed the wedges in the door. Seconds later, she was in the transport room at Dragonfly HQ with her portal closing behind her. The transportation tech told her to wait, and a few moments later, Annika came through her own portal.

Aisling handed over the tablets. She’d transfer the photos once she was back in her office. “Success. Also, expect Oliver to have a word or two to say about sending me out without proper equipment.”

Annika’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “It won’t be the first time. Good job. You’re done for the day.”

Aisling watched with surprise as Annika walked away. The transport tech laughed. “I’ve seen that expression follow that woman more than once.”

“Is she always like this?”

“Brilliant and seemingly random?”

She chuckled and turned to face him. “Yeah. That sums it up well.”

The wizard grinned. It made his otherwise average, clean-shaven features look handsome. “Definitely. But hey, you got a half day off out of it. Go enjoy the sunshine.”

“You’re right. I’ll do just that.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Aisling had used the early end of her workday to go home to the coven. She spent that evening enjoying everyone’s company and had slept soundly. The next day’s breakfast had been its usual entertaining meal, although with Cait still in Boston and her father away on Oriceran, it was only her, Brianna, and their mother. She’d asked if anyone wanted to accompany her to Westport, and the elder Keane had declined. Her sister had agreed.

Aisling walked a few feet to Brianna’s side as they made their way through the forest. She’d bundled up her swords and the daggers Cait had given her, thrown a strap around the cloth that held them, and secured it crosswise across her back. She held a walking stick in one hand, and she poked it ahead of her to detect obstructions.

Part of her mind and vision was devoted to her bird as she piloted it from tree to tree above their heads. It was odd viewing herself from above, and even odder seeing two almost identical people. Her sister was in jeans shorts, a T-shirt, and hiking boots, and Aisling had chosen the same. Only their hair length, Brianna’s curls, and her sister’s bulkier body distinguished them from one another.

Brianna handled the spell that kept bugs and mosquitoes from attacking them as they moved through the forest, which made the walk an entirely pleasant affair.

Aisling asked, “So, is everything as calm around here as it seems?”

Brianna laughed. “Extra calm, since Dad went back to Oriceran.”

Aisling grinned. “They do love to bicker, don’t they?”

“They could be professionals at it.” Her sister threw her shillelagh ahead with a quick movement, then reached out with her magic and brought the weapon back to her hand. She’d been practicing her throws since they’d entered the woods.

“Glad to hear it. I didn’t get a chance to mention it last week, but when we were up on the mountain, Cait’s fox friend showed up. He said there’s something weird going on to the east.”

Brianna didn’t reply until after the shillelagh had thumped solidly back into her palm. “Like what? Where?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t specific about the location or what the problem was.”

Her sister frowned. “Does he want us to do something about it?”

Aisling tripped over a root but caught herself before she fell. Keeping Grayson flying while walking on such uneven terrain was one more challenge. “I’m not sure. Cait wasn’t, either, and she knows him best.”

Brianna grunted as she tossed the shillelagh again. When it was back in her hand, she said, “Well, when you get it figured out, whatever it is, I’m in. With the two of you away, I’m mostly stuck here.”

Aisling looked at her sister in surprise. “I thought you wanted it that way.”

Brianna lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “A lot of the time I do. But some variety would be nice.” She hurled her shillelagh ahead again, and as she brought it back, Aisling deflected it with a twitch of her fingers and a word of magic. The redirection forced Brianna to jump to catch it, and she landed less than gracefully.

Aisling quipped, “Nice hops.”

Her sister growled with mock ferocity, “Don’t make me clunk you on the head.”

“You said you wanted some variety.” She felt the change as Brianna pulled back the magical bug protection from around her. “Oh, that’s low. You’re cold.” As they exited the forest, Aisling brought the bird down to her hand. “All right. I’m off to see Grash.”

Brianna nodded. “Tell the grumpy one I said hi. I’m going to check in with the mayor. Let me know when you’re ready to go back.”

“I will.” Aisling examined the shops as she walked along the streets of Westport and took note of the people walking around. The town had gone through some rough times during the conflict with the werewolves, but it was almost back to what it had been. A couple of the buildings that had burned still hadn’t been replaced and were currently just empty lots, but in time, they would be back as well.

The tourists had returned in even greater numbers as now the locals had tales to tell of what they called “The War with the Wolves.” Aisling thought the name was overly dramatic, but then again, her livelihood didn’t depend upon making people interested in visiting her town.

She opened the door to Grash’s shop and stepped inside. The front room was a showroom, with weapons of all kinds adorning the walls and more intricate mechanisms and objects in a central display case with a glass top. Aisling peered into it to see if he had added anything new since her last visit. A trio of delicate throwing knives she hadn’t seen before lay in one corner, and some sort of dart launcher with an exposed spring mechanism she didn’t quite understand at a glance was in the other.

Grash loved his work, as it was also his hobby, and he spent most of his waking hours creating his wares. His gruff voice preceded him as he entered from the rear of the shop. “Welcome to my shop.” He stopped, broke into a grin, and clapped his hands. “Aisling. I haven’t seen you in forever.” The dwarf was clad in heavy canvas trousers and a thick shirt, although one rarely noticed his clothing given the eye-catching appeal of his long, thick beard. He moved forward and opened up his arms. She wrapped him in a hug, and he lifted her off the ground, as he always did. He said, “Come on into the back. What brings you to town?”

She followed him into his work area. It was a large space with many different worktables set up throughout it. She knew from previous visits that each was home to a particular process, several of them familiar from her own work, but if a logical reason for their arrangement existed, she didn’t know what it was. Grash’s expertise was wide-ranging and included the gift of working equally proficiently with wood, metal, and stone. “Came to see you. I have a question. Oh, and Bri says hi.”

He sat at a table and gestured for her to take the seat on the opposite side. “Say hi to her and hold on to that question until I’ve checked out your stuff.” She removed the bundle from her back, unrolled it, and handed over the daggers. He looked them over and said, “These belonged to your sister, correct?”

“Yeah. Cait handed them down to me when she got her fancy dagger.”

He grunted. “Sentient weapons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, if you ask me.”

She’d never heard anyone espouse that opinion before. “Why?”

Grash looked up from the knives. “When you give a tool a personality, it might decide to make its own choices. Seems as if that could prove problematic. I’ll stick with the normal enchanted ones, thanks.” He spoke a charm, pinched the blade between his fingers, and dragged them down to the point. Where his fingers touched the metal, it was honed to razor-sharpness. “You know you can cast through these, right?”

“Through the one in my right hand, yes.”

He nodded. “That’s right. Your sister is the one with double wands. Let me see your rings.” She took them off and handed them over. He pulled out a cloth to polish them and followed it up with a careful examination of each through a magnifying glass. “These are still pristine. Good work.”

Aisling accepted them back from him. “I try.”

Grash set his implements aside to clear the space between them. “All right. What’s that question you mentioned?”

She placed her swords on the table. They were long and slightly curved, with worn handles but sharp, well-maintained blades. “I can’t carry these in my normal job. Sometimes I have a backpack, so being able to put them in there would give me something, at least. I guess what I’m hoping you have an idea for is how to make them retractable.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve not done that before, which, to be honest, is not a thing I say very often.”

Aisling grinned. “Well, I’m glad I could bring you a challenge. It’s probably an insurmountable one, though, isn’t it?”

Grash drummed his fingers on the table in a series of strange rhythms. She recognized it as his thinking pose and waited quietly. Finally, he grunted. “I see two possibilities. First, we could create something spring-loaded. Kind of like a combat baton, where it collapses inward. It should be possible to build it so that the cutting edge is seamless.” She pictured it in her mind as he continued, “The other side would be crenelated so it could collapse, I guess. That might be a challenge to figure out. It would release at the touch of a button, but you’d have to put it back in physically. You could cover your hand with force magic to do it. I think that would work.”

She’d expected to hear it wasn’t possible, so any other answer was welcome. “How small could you make it?”

He shrugged. “How small a blade are you willing to wield? A dagger would probably be no bigger than your hand when collapsed. The sword, though, figure twice that at least.”

“That’s something I could conceal under a jacket or sweatshirt.”

“You could.”

Excitement was starting to grow inside Aisling. “Could we make them scanner-proof? And build the things so they only release if it’s my hand on the hilt?”

Grash laughed. “Probably, on the first. Yes, on the second, but that will require you helping me to construct them.”

She grinned. “Well, that’s a done deal. But you said there might be another option. What is it?”

“It would be theoretically possible, if we had a magically active metal, to store it in a liquid state. Then, with the application of the right magic, it could come out of the pommel in whatever shape you wanted. The proper invocation would solidify it so you wouldn’t need to keep magic flowing to it.”

She almost gasped in surprise. “Really?”

Grash lifted a hand and waggled it. “It’s still theoretical. I haven’t done it myself. But that’s where some of the research into magical crafting is going. I learned about it from one of my metal groups.”

“Wow.”

“Yes.” He chuckled, clearly pleased at her reaction. “So, do you want to start designing the swords?”

Aisling grinned. “Hell yes.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Aisling returned home that night, and the next morning she texted Mia to see if she was free. The infomancer took an hour to reply, during which Aisling ate breakfast, showered, dressed in jean shorts and a T-shirt, and did a bit of cleaning around the house. When the message came, the answer was, “Absolutely.”

She slipped into her sandals and headed to the Council House, rolling the crate with the completed dragon inside it behind her. They’d agreed to meet in the small courtyard within the Council House’s walls, which was open to the sky and a favored spot for lunch breaks.

Only a single door led out to it with an airlock that ensured no one could breach the facility from above. Aisling took the dragon out of its crate and set it on the ground. Mia walked out of the building wearing shorts and a T-shirt, which made her exoskeleton stand out all the more. Aisling grinned. “The more I see of that tech, the more I want to see.”

Mia laughed. “Are you flirting with me?”

Aisling flushed and joined in the laughter. “Not intentionally.”

The infomancer raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps your subconscious is.”

“I’m pretty sure my subconscious is just lusting after the technology, like you said it would.”

The other woman offered a smile. “Fair enough.” She gestured at the dragon. “So, that’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you. Let me impress you with my tech now.” She used her magic to activate the machine’s diagnostic sequence. The dragon whipped its head around, fluttered its wings, and lashed its tail from side to side.

Mia exhaled slowly. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you. I know I am. And who’s flirting now?”

The other woman laughed. “Does it have network capacity?”

Aisling nodded. “Of course.”

“Is it okay if I hack it?”

“If you can. It’s got pretty solid code.”

Mia grinned, then brought up her left arm. She started tapping at it as if a computer display was in mid-air. Aisling wondered what she was seeing and how it interfaced with her exoskeleton. A few seconds later, the infomancer reported, “I’m in.”

Aisling shook her head with a laugh. “And here I thought I’d done an adequate job.”

The other woman shrugged. “It’s not bad. I’m just really good. I can improve your code, if you like.”

“Who am I to argue with an expert?”

Mia pointed a finger at her. “That is the correct attitude.”

Aisling took control of the dragon with her magic and flapped its wings to lift it off the ground. She spiraled it upward, then brought it in for a test landing. It worked perfectly. Her interface with it wasn’t as smooth as the one with her bird yet. With Grayson, she just willed for a thing to happen, and her magic interfaced with the technology to make it so. It would take time to achieve that with the dragon, so she’d have to exert more direct control for a while. She took it up again, flew it over the building, and then around Victoria Square.

Mia laughed, and the joy in it made Aisling smile. “This is so much more fun than a drone. I’m not sure why.”

Aisling replied, “Perhaps because it seems more like a living thing. Maybe you’re anthropomorphizing it. I do that all the time.”

“What happens if you lose contact with it?”

Aisling banked it around and took it down to about ten feet above the ground to buzz the people gathered there. Several pointed and shouted while others pulled out phones to try to take images of it. “A program will activate to return it to its launch point. It has GPS, so it always knows exactly where it is.”

The infomancer’s tone had a note of satisfaction in it. “That’s good. What if it’s damaged?”

“If I’m still in contact, I can make decisions for it in real-time if I can’t control the pieces directly. If it’s not, I wrote a decision tree with several options. The dragon is built to glide if power issues present themselves, as well.”

The other woman didn’t reply. Aisling took her creation through more elaborate flight routines, then asked, “Do you have a good enough connection to take it over?”

Mia had leaned back with her eyes closed, probably to focus on the input from the dragon, but straightened at the question. “I think so.”

“Give it a try. I’m confident I can override with my magic if things go awry.”

It felt strange when the infomancer took control of the dragon. Aisling was still there but now was only a passenger. The sensation was different from when the dragon was flying itself. Mia was more daring than she’d been and put the dragon through a series of extreme movements Aisling wouldn’t have chosen to try just yet, but it handled them all without a problem. After about fifteen minutes, Aisling took control back from her. Mia’s voice was full of warmth as she said, “That was wonderful. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“Have you considered putting in an AI?”

Aisling brought the dragon in for a landing, then let herself fall back onto the grass to relax. “Yes. A simple one so those without a magical connection could interface with it.”

Mia sounded thoughtful. “A good start. But what about a more complex version?”

Aisling lifted her head and shaded her eyes to look at her companion, who was sitting cross-legged a few feet away from her. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’ve been working on a project of my own. It’s an AI that’s designed to infiltrate enemy systems and teach itself how to defeat them. I’m not willing to release it into any systems yet, because I’m not positive about how well it can escape discovery and I don’t want anyone stealing the code. But the learning part is really good. I could tweak it, and we can see if it could do the same in your machine.”

Aisling's heart beat a little faster as the possibilities spun out in her mind. “Go on.”

The infomancer laughed at her inability to keep the interest out of her voice. “I can program in your decision tree so that nothing of what you have is lost. But the AI might be able to figure out how to operate the device even better than you can right now. Worst case, I can share that performance information with you. But it might also give you more options if you lose contact with it.”

Aisling leaned back, then rolled up to her feet. “I think I’d like to see this thing.”

“We can go down to my lab right now.”

Aisling packed up the dragon and rolled the case in with them. They descended to the infomancy unit and headed into Mia’s office. As the infomancer took her seat, she suggested, “Put on the VR rig. It’ll be more impressive that way.”

Aisling dropped onto the couch and pulled on the headset. A moment later, the darkness was replaced by lines of code. “That’s the actual code interface. But here’s the conceptual version.” The text blew away as if a sudden wind had knocked each of the letters off onto its own path. They flowed and twirled, then coalesced into spinning nodes of different solid shapes. A pyramid here, a sphere there, all in three dimensions, and all with unstable boundaries that shifted and twisted. Pulsing lines connected all of them, either directly or by bridging through other subnodes. Aisling didn’t really understand what she was seeing but could appreciate its complexity.

Mia explained, “The nodes are decision spots and memory locations. You can see how everything is interconnected. It’s built that way so each node can access what it needs as quickly as possible and so each can work in parallel. The system distributes option generation among nodes so they can all be reviewed at once and in context with one another.”

Aisling nodded but really didn’t understand. Fortunately, she had no need to. The image changed colors, and Mia explained what was going on, but the visual had captured Aisling's imagination. It resembled the universe, or gemstones connected by threads of energy. The whole thing glowed, pulsed, and just felt right. When it was over, she removed the VR headset.

Mia asked, “So?”

“Let’s do it.”

The other woman let out a loud whoop. “Awesome. I’ll start working on the coding today. Transfer me all the software and hardware specs for the machine and it shouldn’t take more than maybe a week to get it ready.”

“That’s a lot of work for you,” Aisling pointed out.

Mia waved that concern away. “It’s what I love doing. And believe me, I want to see how it works every bit as much as you do. Maybe more.”

Aisling grinned. “Excellent. Let’s find out what this thing can really do.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Aisling had treated Victoria to another latte to start their Monday morning, and they’d passed several enjoyable hours engaged in their own work while chatting. Her colleague had been away for the weekend at a beach, and to hear her tell it, she’d enjoyed every second of the trip. Aisling laughed a little at her talk of riding the train as her thoughts went back to her own recent experience.

By noon, Aisling had polished the draft report on the object she’d spent the previous week examining into the final version. The press of a button dispatched the report to the base’s AI, and she carried the object itself down to secure storage. When she returned, Victoria was ready for a break, so they wandered off to lunch.

Afterward, Aisling found instructions in her system to pick up a new object for analysis. She headed back down to secure storage and retrieved it. It was a piece of metal covered in runes she didn’t recognize. She showed it to Victoria, who examined it with interest. “You get all the interesting stuff.”

“What are you working on now?” Aisling asked. Victoria had finished up her project about an hour before Aisling had wrapped hers.

“Looks like a comm device of some kind. About the size of a thick phone. I’m guessing there’s hardware encryption in there somewhere. It’s going to be fun to take it apart and see what secrets it’s hiding.”

They worked in companionable silence for the afternoon, punctuated by breaks to chat and another trip to the café. With about a half-hour left to go before Aisling planned to head home, she got a call from Keller’s assistant.

“Sophie, wonderful to hear from you.”

Keller’s assistant rewarded the comment with a smile. “He’d like to see you.”

“On my way.” The response earned an approving nod as the connection closed. When she reached the outer office, Sophie waved her hand, and Aisling went through the door. She deliberately looked to her right this time and found that Annika was also present.

Keller was behind his desk, as before, and wasted no time. “We’ve discovered a lead from the data you brought back from Zurich. It seems as if someone has been misbehaving.”

She sat as he gestured to the left and a holographic display materialized at the side of the room. It displayed a picture of a bank. Annika explained, “It appears an unknown organization has been skimming small amounts from the Vonbard bank. The item you found in the book contained a ledger, among other things. We’ve had infomancy working on it since you brought it back, and they discovered the theft is more widespread than it first appeared. They believe we’ve just scratched the surface of what might be hidden on that card.”

Aisling nodded. “Okay. So, what are we planning to do about it?”

“Exactly the right question,” Keller replied. “We’ve identified this man, Vicente Sallent, as the next step in the chain.” An image appeared on the display. His nose was prominent enough that it was the first thing one saw. But around it was a strong face with a hard jawline and deep brown eyes. His hair was short, black mixed with gray. “We’re not sure he’s the last one. But we need to find out.”

Annika took over. “And to do that, we have to get someone inside his house. He doesn’t have any other place of business, so that’s the only location where we can get a line on his activities.”

“And what’s the plan once someone’s inside?” Aisling wondered if they expected her to make something for the agent that would be going in.

“Plant access devices that will give our infomancers a shot at digging out his secrets and discovering the scope of his involvement with the organization.”

The tactical part of Aisling's mind had clicked into gear. “Can you suborn someone on his staff? Money, blackmail, whatever?”

Annika shook her head. “It has to be an agent.”

“Why an agent?”

“Depending on what they see inside, they might have to improvise. We don’t know enough about what’s going on to assume we have time on our side.”

Aisling was now quite confused. “It’s just theft.”

“It’s never only theft at our level,” Keller told her. “Money is only ever a means to some more important end.”

She looked at Annika, then back at Dragonfly’s leader. “You seem more concerned about this than I would expect you to be.”

“Indeed, we are. The object you’ve been investigating? The group behind the terrorist attack it came from is rumored to be connected to Vicente.”

She bit back the word she wanted to say and settled on, “Hell.”

“Exactly.”

Annika went on, “The real problem is Jameson Hart. SIS probably knows all of our agents. We all make it a point to identify each other’s people, if only to avoid stumbling into someone else’s op.”

An explanation for where this conversation was leading glimmered in the corner of her mind, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”

Annika pointed a finger at her. “Exactly that. Aisling Keane, you are hereby promoted to field agent, probational. Operational details and timetables are on your computer. Go review them, then head down to technical for your equipment.”

Aisling recognized the dismissal and had no idea what she said in farewell as she left the room. She walked in a daze back to her worktable and sat heavily. Part of her inner being was jumping for joy, and the rest was brainstorming random things about the mission she still didn’t have the details of.

Victoria had already left for the day, which was probably a good thing. Aisling doubted she could handle light conversation at the moment, given her racing thoughts. She logged into the system and a folder appeared marked “Operation.”

The file included pictures of the house, shots of the subject during his rare public appearances, and a bunch of other details she didn’t have the capacity to deal with at the moment. The timetable was tight. Sallent was hosting a large party, and while the guest list was made up of the wealthy and powerful, the organization obviously thought it had a way to get her inside. From there, it would be on her to plant the infomancer relays or “improvise.”

Faced with the overwhelming newness of it all, she could think of only one thing to do. She hit the controls to connect with Lance. He smiled into the camera as it activated. “Aisling. I knew you missed me. I figured you were just holding off on calling out of respect for my need to stay focused on recovery.”

The quip brought a laugh. “And how are you doing?”

“Okay. Some nerves got damaged and they’re working on fixing that. Technology is wonderful. Not as effective as your healing potions or whatever, but still pretty darn good. They say I should be back to work in a month, fully capable again in two. I plan to beat both of those estimates.” His grin moderated into a more serious expression. “But the look on your face suggests you’re not just calling to check up on me.”

She blurted, “I’ve been promoted. Field agent, probationary.”

“It hits like a ton of bricks, doesn’t it? I walked around in a daze for a week. I don’t really remember what happened during that time.”

She laughed, but it was a mixture of amusement and tension. “I have four days. I’m infiltrating a party on Friday night.”

“Where?”

She tried to recall if she’d seen where the mansion was located. “I don’t actually know. I saw the house. Apparently, now that your friend from the other night is known to be working with the bad guys, things are more challenging.”

He winced. “Because he knows who our agents are. Yeah, I hadn’t thought about that. It makes sense. You should be sure to review pictures of his agency’s people, as well, before you go. It might be that he’s not the only one of them coloring outside the lines.”

“Didn’t you all, like, talk to MI6 after the mission?”

“We did. He’s out of reach. They’re looking for him, too.”

“But of course, he’s a spy, so he’s good at not being found.”

Lance chuckled. “You’re catching on.”

“Hell,” she said again.

His demeanor turned earnest. “Listen, Aisling. You’ve got what it takes for this job. I know that, and Annika does, too. Anyone who’s worked with you knows that. This was always where you were going to end up. Circumstances just made it happen a little earlier than expected.” He grinned. “Consider it a gift rather than a curse. You wouldn’t be in the organization if you didn’t really want to be an agent. Go bring glory upon us and all that stuff.”

She shook her head, but with a smile. “You’re not really experienced with giving pep talks, are you?”

“Nah. In the military, it was all orders, and since then, I’m more a lone wolf kind of guy.”

“Except for the whole team of technicians, infomancers, and such that support you.”

He waved that away. “Nope. It’s all me. And don’t start talking about handlers. They’re just trouble.”

She laughed, remembering that he’d been a handler before becoming an agent. “I really wish you’d picked a handler to go with you on the train.”

“That’s a lie. But while we’re whining, I really wish you hadn’t gotten me shot.”

Her head jerked back up to the screen. “I did not,” she began to protest, but stopped at his laughter.

“Gotcha.”

“You suck.”

Lance grinned. “You’re not the first to say so. You’ll be great. Now, your next stop is probably technical, am I right?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Let it wait until tomorrow. Brodie’s probably out by now, and I want you to work with him. I’ll send a message up the chain letting them know it was my idea.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. “I can’t help you in the field, obviously, but everywhere else, I’ve got your back. You’re going to be great.”

He logged off, and Aisling stared into space.

Yeah. I am going to be great. Which means I need to get to work. She called up the file of agents’ faces from other organizations and started paging through them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Aisling was still floating on a cloud of disbelief the next day when she headed into the office. She automatically went to her workspace in investigation, even though she was fully aware she was supposed to go somewhere else. It was as if her feet didn’t want to acknowledge the change in circumstance.

Victoria was already inside and turned at her entrance. “So, what happened? Tell me everything.”

Aisling stopped in the center of the room and made a weak gesture with her left hand. “I’m promoted.”

Victoria let out a joyous shout and leapt from her chair to wrap Aisling in a hug. “I knew it wouldn’t be long. You’ve definitely got what it takes to be a field agent.”

“Really?” Her voice was muffled by having all the air squeezed out of her.

Victoria stepped back and nodded. “Really really.”

Her friend’s approval allowed her to accept that it was all real. Now that Victoria had reminded her she was worthy of the position, her confidence returned in full. This was what she thought she’d be doing when Annika had first hired her. Her success at the agency’s boot camp had reinforced that belief. But when she’d been placed in investigation, she’d allowed herself to forget that conviction.

But the truth was, she’d distinguished herself in everything she’d done for Dragonfly. Damn straight, I’m ready for this. She gave herself one more mental shake and felt the last bits of her resistance to the idea ebb away. She grinned. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Victoria punched her gently on the shoulder. “There you are. I was wondering where the real Aisling had gone.”

She laughed. “I was just a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

“No time for that. Now that you’re fancy, we’ll have to arrange to meet outside of work more often. Speaking of which, when are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow or Thursday, I think.”

Her friend beamed. “Then you can still come out tonight.”

Aisling shook her head. “Victoria,” was all she got out before the other woman interrupted.

“It’s not just social. I need to have a follow-up talk with stalker boy.”

Aisling frowned. She knew Victoria could handle herself but didn’t like the idea of her going head-to-head with someone who might be dangerous. “Can you call the police?”

She shook her head. “He’s been smart. Everything is potentially deniable. But after our brief chat, I’m sure he has bad intentions.”

“Then I’m there.”

Victoria gave her another hug. “So, do you have a space in whatever fancy place the agents hang out?”

She hadn’t actually thought about it before, but obviously there must be one of those somewhere. “I don’t know. I’m just supposed to visit Brodie.”

Her friend grinned again. “Then you’d better get to it, hadn’t you?”

Aisling headed down a level to Brodie’s domain. The fabrication area was the only room on the floor that she’d actually been in before, although she’d known there were others. This time, she went left after passing through the airlock and then turned right to pass through a doorway.

It brought her into a room that was about the same depth as the fabrication area, but much wider. Worktables and storage cabinets covered almost every available inch of space along the walls. Several large tables with items resting on them were positioned at symmetrical intervals in the middle of the room. The left-hand wall had a gap in the cabinets for a door, and a large window was located near it. Through it, she saw Brodie seated at a desk inside.

He smiled at her entrance and hustled out into the main room. “Aisling, good to finally see you in my little corner of the world.”

She grinned. “You know, I always wanted to come and see what you did here but was afraid of being a bother.”

“I’ve never seen you worry about bothering anyone before.” He laughed to remove any perception that the insult was serious. “You’re here now, that’s what matters. Although I expected you yesterday.”

“So you know?”

Brodie nodded. “Annika sent word. I have to say, it’s past time that they moved you up from investigation to field work.”

Aisling shook her head. Others had seen more in her than she had, apparently. Or, probably more accurately, she’d known her worth but hadn’t realized that others had, too. “So, word is that you’re going to give me some presents.”

He laughed. “We like to call it the field agent welcome basket. Come on.” He led her over to a tall device mounted on one of the tables. He gestured her to the stool on one side, and he took the other. The machine rotated and moved toward her as he worked the controls. Its purpose was obvious, by virtue of the curved chin rest, the marker for where the forehead went, and the horizontal tubes at eye level between them.

He confirmed it by raising the machine on its hydraulic pedestal to position it at the correct height for her. “This will take only a moment. Put your chin on the support and look into the sensor. Try not to blink.”

Aisling did as requested. After a couple of seconds, Brodie let her go. “All good. You’re done with this. We’ve got your eye mapped and will have a lens ready for you by the end of the day.”

She stood as he did the same. “Does anyone ever have a problem tolerating the lens?”

He shook his head. “You won’t feel it. The material is liquid permeable, so your eye won’t dry out or anything. It might take your brain an hour or two to get used to the difference between your eyes, but that will come naturally. Now, on to the fun stuff.”

They walked to another table, on which lay a series of outwardly recognizable items. “First, the watch. You’ve got two versions, everyday wear and what we like to call the dress-up version.” The first was simple, clean, and elegant, with an analog face on a leather band. The second was right out of a fashion magazine. Small gems dotted the perimeter of the face, and larger colored jewels were set in place of every odd number.

Aisling laughed. “I can’t see Lance wearing this.”

Brodie joined in the laughter. “No, I think he’d probably resist that. This one is actually borrowed from a local jeweler we have a relationship with, since we know you’re going to a fancy party. We’ll get you something a little less atrocious afterward. Once you know what color you’re wearing, we’ll get a band that matches. We’ve already replaced the insides with our standard tech.”

It struck her as amusing that Brodie and his team were concerned with the fashion implications of her gear, but it made sense. Looking the part was an essential prerequisite if she hoped to fool anyone at the party. She laughed inwardly at the thought that all her years of playing pretend when she was a kid would finally come in handy. He held up a credit card.

“That’s an electronic lock pick,” she guessed.

Brodie nodded. “Got it in one. It handles basic locks on its own reasonably well. For more difficult ones, you’ll need an infomancer connection, too.” Next up was a small plastic case. “Agents get a more advanced earplug than the rest of us. The normal ones are pretty unobtrusive. This one is virtually transparent thanks to its active matching function. It will adapt to your skin tone and become almost invisible unless someone starts poking around in your ear.”

Aisling took the case, opened it, and examined the device inside. It didn’t look much different from the ones she’d used, but she trusted that the tech expert wasn’t exaggerating. “Excellent.”

“Its internal power is good for a couple days. Remembering to recharge it is harder than you think, so you’ll want to set a reminder. It’s also somewhat more comfortable than the standard ones, and agents often forget to remove it, which adds to the potential for a dead battery. You can turn it on and off by verbal command or a sequence of taps that we’ll teach you.”

Aisling put the earpiece back in its case.

Brodie extended his palm. “Hand me your cell phone, please.” She did, and followed him to another table, where a phone, similar in size to hers but a little thicker, was set in the leftmost of two slots in a vertical holder. He placed hers in the empty one. “This will just take a minute.” Shortly, the other phone lit up with a duplicate of her screen.

He took both out and handed them to her. “Your phone is cloned. Keep both of them on you for the next several hours and the new one will pull in all the data from the old one. Afterward, shove the old one in a drawer and forget about it.” He scratched at his beard. “The replacement doesn’t have too much fancy stuff on its own but acts as the base unit to your earpiece and lens. It also will give you a datalink to an infomancer should you need one. Your watch does the same thing, but the phone does it better and longer.”

She accepted both and slid them into her pockets. “Will I need to worry if I find myself in a situation where there’s some kind of signal blocker?”

“Yes. Its connectivity to the main network requires being able to latch onto the internet, a satellite, or a cell tower. But even without that, it will support your lens and earpiece with whatever range it can offer. It has on-board memory that we can load mission data into. Plus, a detachable memory stick that can be used on computers that don’t have a network connection but do have a data port.”

Aisling grinned at him. “You’ve really thought of everything.”

He smiled back. “Experience is a very good teacher. You never want to send an agent out without the proper tools.”

She scowled. “Unless you’re Annika and it’s a training day.”

Brodie laughed. “I heard about that. It’s not the funniest or dirtiest trick she’s pulled, trust me. And I haven’t shown you the coolest item, yet.”

“I feel like it’s my birthday.”

“I have to admit, I love all the parts of my job, but handing over tools is probably my favorite thing.” He opened a white plastic case to reveal a bracelet. It was made of silver and black metal sections arranged in diagonal patterns.

“It’s beautiful.”

He beamed at the compliment. “Thank you for saying so. This is my version of your dragon project. It took me a long time to figure out how to get it to work.”

“I was going to make some clever comment, but I’ve got nothing. I can’t imagine what sort of fancy stuff you’ve put in there.”

Brodie leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “It’s not what’s inside. It’s the bracelet itself.” He removed it from the box and turned it to show her the slight protrusions on the inside. “You press this one up and the other one down simultaneously, and this happens.” He demonstrated, and the bracelet seemed to writhe and shift as small pieces moved, seemingly independently, into new arrangements.

The transition took only seconds, but when it was over, he held a small stiletto with a wickedly sharp needle-tipped blade.

She breathed, “Holy hell.”

He laughed. “That is the perfect response for this work of art.”

“How does it do that?”

“A metal thread holds all the pieces together. The threading is so intricate it required hours of computer time to plot out the correct pattern that would allow it to take one shape and then the other. Then, it took more to figure out how to activate that thread at the precise intervals to move each piece to where it needs to be without interfering with the others.” He turned it to show the protrusions and pushed them again.

The stiletto became a bracelet once more, and he offered it to her. She put it on with a wide smile. “I should probably get used to wearing it.”

Brodie laughed. “Just don’t lose it. We get angry when agents don’t bring our toys back.”

“I’m only a probational agent.”

“Then I’ll be probationally angry.”

She frowned. “That sounds dangerous.”

He gave her a fake scowl. “And don’t you forget it. Now, head down to the armory for the next part of your transformation into a field agent.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Aisling headed down to the floor where the armorer did his work. She’d only been there a few times, as he had a cage full of guns in the training room for those who wanted to use the shooting range down there. But every new employee was introduced to this space, because the weapons that would be used to defend the building if needed were stored here.

She found Heinrich Bauer in the center of the large open room, standing at a worktable with a disassembled rifle on its surface. Instead of the fatigues he’d worn the last time she’d seen him, he was clad in a precise suit with a tie held in place by a pin with a seal she didn’t recognize on it. He was running a handheld scanner over each piece. She watched without interrupting. When he was finished, he set the device aside and looked up at her with a professional smile. “Agent Keane.”

She laughed. “Aisling still works for me, Heinrich.”

“Good to hear that you haven’t let the promotion go to your head.”

“Not yet anyway. It is only my first day.”

He nodded with a wry smile. “We’ll hope it continues, then. Now, it’s time for you to select a pistol.”

Aisling shrugged. “I guess, although I won’t be able to carry one on my imminent mission since I’m going to a fancy party. Kind of hard to hide one in the dresses that are popular these days.”

Heinrich moved away from the table and waved for her to follow him. “Well, you can pick one for the operation after that, then. We’ll need time to customize it to you, anyway.”

Aisling knew very little about modifying weapons. “What kind of customizations?”

He stopped in front of a cabinet and turned back to her. “The grip can be made slightly wider or narrower by replacing the side plates. Plus, we have to match it with your fingerprints so only you can fire it.”

“Okay.”

Heinrich grinned. “Do you have a preference?”

Aisling considered all the weapons she knew. “Out of the ones I’ve used here, I like the Glock Seventeen best.”

He turned and opened the cabinet. “Have you tried the Nineteen?”

She looked over his shoulder to see an array of pistols in holders that positioned them barrel-first in the cabinet. “No.”

“It might fit your hand better. Let’s check that one out, too.” He pulled both weapons out and added a magazine for each. After closing and locking the cabinet, he gestured toward the back of the room and started walking in that direction. “We’ve got a small firing range here. It’s adequate for simple tests like this.”

They passed through the door into the long space. He put on ear protection and handed her a set. As she donned it, he pushed some buttons and the lights on the lane came up to show a target at the far end. He suggested, “Let’s do the Seventeen first, since you’re familiar with it.”

Aisling ran through the entire magazine with carefully aimed shots. He pressed a button on the wall, and the target flew toward them on its mechanical line. Her bullets were well grouped in the subject’s torso, with several shots in the forehead. Only a couple had missed the mark and hit the shoulders instead. He observed, “Not bad,” then hung a new target on the clip and sent it back down the range. “Okay, now try the Nineteen.”

As she settled into her shooting stance, she discovered he was right. The pistol did fit her hand a little better than the other had. When the target returned, none of the shots had gone awry.

She took off her ear protection. “I’m sold.”

Heinrich grinned. “Good.” They returned to the main office, where he had her place her hands on a flat sensor. A light moved across them. When the first scan was done, he gave her the pistol and instructed, “Hold that and put the base of your hand on the sensor.” It performed another scan that took longer than the first.

When it was complete, he told her, “You’re all done. Are you sure you can’t take a weapon on the mission with you?”

Aisling laughed. “Not unless you have a really small one and a way to hide it in a clutch purse.”

He stroked his chin. She couldn’t tell if he was actually thinking about how to solve the problem or just pretending to in order to seem impressive or inscrutable. “Not one that would be worthwhile. Not a bad thing to consider for later, though. But ask MacGregor to give you the makeup kit.”

“Makeup kit?”

He grinned. “You’ll find out.”

Aisling shook her head with a laugh. “Okay. Will do.”

* * *

She’d spent the rest of the day reviewing the details of her mission and going through pictures of known agents. It was getting easier to recall them, although she doubted she’d have the wits to put names and faces together if she encountered them in the field. Her mind got lost in the work until her alarm went off to warn her that she had only an hour before she had to be somewhere.

She portaled home to change for the night out she’d promised Victoria. Tonight’s outfit consisted of fashionable but functional boots, black slacks, and a black blouse with an unbuttoned green cardigan on top. With the sleeves rolled up, it was acceptably casual. She wouldn’t attract many eyes with the simple style, but doing so wasn’t her goal for the evening. And besides, no one could outshine Victoria in a social setting.

She portaled to her nearest known point near the meeting place and walked a few blocks to her destination. She made it right on time, and Victoria introduced her to the woman who was having problems with the stalker. Victoria’s blonde hair, pulled back in a ponytail, was a marked contrast to the other woman’s dark, curly locks. Their faces were unalike as well, with Victoria looking like a movie star while her friend looked like a girl from the country.

They headed inside and chose seats at a small table. The server ventured over, took their orders, and departed. Claire said, “Thank you for coming. It’s so weird. I don’t know why he’s fixated on me. We only met one time, when we wound up sitting a couple of stools away from each other at the bar. The person in between left, so we chatted a little. He wasn’t interesting, and I took off when I finished my drink. I was polite, but certainly not more than that. But ever since, he seems to show up when I’m out.”

They talked and sipped their drinks, all cognizant of the need to stay sober. After about twenty minutes, a raucous group of men came through the door and claimed a table across the room. Victoria whispered, “That’s him. In the horrible plaid shirt.”

Aisling took a surreptitious look at the newcomers. The men were all in their twenties, she estimated. They looked completely average, like young professionals out for a drink after work. Possibly a little loud, but no more so than several others in the bar who were shouting at the football matches shown on the TV screens. About half the place cheered for every goal scored, so it wasn’t exactly a quiet venue.

But Victoria and Claire were right. The way the guy’s eyes kept coming over to their table was on the creepy end of the scale. When her eyes met his, he didn’t shy away from meeting her gaze. Still, she couldn’t see clear evidence. “What convinced you that he’s stalking her?”

Victoria nodded at her friend. “Watch.” Claire stood and walked to the restrooms in the rear. After only a few seconds, plaid shirt got up and wandered casually in the same direction.

Victoria cut her eyes toward him. “See?” Then she rose and went to escort Claire back. He returned to his table and laughed with his friends.

Aisling frowned. “Okay, you’re right. Someone does need to have a word or three with him. But I don’t think it should be you.”

“Why?”

“He could try to come after you and make trouble when you don’t expect it. Let me do it.”

Her friend gave an almost embarrassed smile. “I kind of hoped you’d say that.”

“You owe me a training session.”

Victoria laughed despite the tension of the moment. “Done.”

Aisling nodded. “I’m going to leave. Make a show when you depart, then turn right and go into the first alley.” She’d checked out the place before they’d entered. “I’ll be waiting.”

She headed out into the night and took a position a few feet inside the alley against a wall. After making sure she was alone, she cast two spells. The first cloaked her in an illusion to make her look different than she had in the bar. She generated a generic-looking face with brunette hair and a slightly stockier body than her own, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.

The second spell covered her with a veil so plaid shirt would think the coast was clear. While she waited, she thought it would be useful if her dragon was there to keep an eye on the door for her. Her inner voice suggested that someone might react strangely to seeing a mechanical dragon perched on the streetlight or something, which sent her mind down a path of wondering how she could give it camouflage like Aza had. She was pretty sure the fabrication machines wouldn’t have the capacity to accomplish that with the materials they used.

She entertained herself with thoughts about how it might be accomplished until Victoria and Claire turned into the alley twenty minutes later. They made it halfway down before the four men appeared and followed them.

Aisling had initially planned to let them interact with Claire as final proof that they were after her. But the look on plaid shirt’s face said it all. He was obsessed, and while she wasn’t sure he was prone to violence, it wasn’t an acceptable situation. If he’d been focused on Victoria, she would have felt confident that her friend’s martial arts skills would be adequate to deal with him. But as far as she knew, Claire had none of that, which meant a clear message was required.

She let them get past, then unveiled. “What are you doing here, boys? Because from where I’m standing, it sure looks like you’re following those women.”

All four men turned toward her with varying amounts of surprise. Plaid shirt, who’d revealed himself to be their leader based on their interactions inside, sauntered forward. “Who’s asking?”

Aisling smiled. “I don’t think you need my name. You might get hooked on me the way you seem to be on that woman.”

He frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just out for a walk.”

She stepped forward and deliberately invaded his personal space to put her nose inches from his. Her eyes locked with his. “Here’s the deal, Romeo. You’re going to stay away from her from here on out. Don’t tire out your brain by trying to find words. Just nod your head if you agree.”

Aisling hadn’t expected a nod, but she’d guessed he’d answer with his version of a witty comment. Instead, he whipped a fast punch at her head. She was ready for it and stepped back so it passed in front of her. Her arm came up in a quick circle to grab the fist as it went by and yank him off balance. He stumbled, but she ignored the opportunity to follow up in favor of staring down the rest. “Anyone else want to try?”

One jogged out of the alley, calling, “I’m out of here.” The other pair spread apart.

Plaid shirt stomped back to stand with his friends and growled, “That was a mistake.”

Aisling nodded agreement. “On your part. Listen, this is your last chance to end this peacefully.”

Plaid shirt countered, “Let’s teach this witch a lesson.”

She laughed inwardly at the attempted insult that was more accurate than he would ever know, since none of them was enough of a threat to make revealing her magic worthwhile. The one on the left charged to tackle her. She skipped in that direction and snapped out a sidekick to intercept him. Her foot caught him in the stomach and dropped him to the ground with his body wrapped around the suddenly blossoming pain in his midsection. She was pretty sure she’d broken one of his ribs.

The next threw a looping roundhouse punch at her jaw and she performed the same maneuver as she had with plaid shirt to send him stumbling to the side. She didn’t follow up, figuring that he deserved a chance to reconsider his choices. Their leader stomped toward her, and she shook her head at his approach. “You really don’t want to do this.”

His grin was equal portions confidence and condescension, both of them misplaced. “You got in a couple of lucky moves. But you’re no fighter.”

For the next thirty seconds, she showed him how wrong he was. He slipped in and tried an uppercut, and she slid to the side to evade it. Instead of counterattacking him, she shuffled to the other one, who had made the poor decision to stay in the fight and attempt to flank her.

He seemed surprised when she stepped directly in front of him, and downright shocked when she delivered a one-two punch to his solar plexus and his jaw. He stumbled back, hit the wall, and slumped down with his hands on his face. She hadn’t felt anything break, which was good. It was her goal to leave plaid shirt’s henchmen hurt but not significantly damaged.

She darted sideways to evade the punch plaid shirt threw at the side of her head. She dodged two more and enjoyed the change of expressions as he realized she was playing with him. He lashed out in anger and compromised his balance trying to connect.

Aisling stepped forward and smashed her knee up into his stomach. He went down on all fours, and she stepped up onto his back. The weight pushed him hard to the ground, where his face hit the asphalt with an audible thump. She took the small step down off him and kicked him in the thigh to numb his leg and slow him in case he was stupid enough to try to get up again.

She searched each of the men and took their IDs out of their wallets. Then she knelt in front of plaid shirt, who was still gasping for breath. She grabbed his hair and used it to lift his head up to look at her. “So, I have your IDs now. That means I know your names, which I could take to the police. But that would be your best case.”

She gave his hair a jerk to be sure he was paying attention. “Because I also know your addresses. If anything happens to her, if she’s even made uncomfortable by your presence, she’ll call me, and I will come for you. And you and anyone who helps you will end up in the hospital, probably for months. Nod if you understand.”

His head spasmed. “I suggest you choose another part of town to hang out in. And if she shows up? Leave. Without a word.” His eyes were lolling a little, so she used his hair to get his attention again. “Remember this moment. Don’t let yourself decide that you might’ve won if this or that had been different. It took work to disable you without permanent damage. Maiming you would have been far easier. Be smart, so we don’t have to meet again.”

Aisling released him and walked out of the alley. She portaled home, then texted Victoria to let her know that things should be fine from there on out. After a relaxing shower, she climbed into bed with two thoughts banging around in her head. First, that it was good to be able to help out one’s friends. And second, that, damn it, she really did have the skills needed to be a kick-ass field agent.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Aisling headed to the fabrication floor, which was also home to Dragonfly’s identity division. A single person was inside. She wore a simple black skirt and a white untucked button-down blouse. Her long, straight black hair hung down over her shoulders. When she turned at Aisling's entrance, Aisling saw features that suggested Japan somewhere in the bloodline, and a wide smile that welcomed her. The other woman said, “Hello, I’m Hana Ishida.”

She nodded. “Aisling Keane.”

The other woman grinned. It looked good on her slightly rounded face. The black hair arranged in small buns at the top of her head was attractive and playful. “I know. I’ve been looking at your picture for hours.” She gestured toward the large display at her side, on which a huge blowup of a passport was positioned. “Your name will be Tiffany Dunne. We planted evidence in various places that you are the daughter of Arlo Dunne, and work for his company. The company is real, and he does have a daughter named Tiffany. She’s been kept out of the public eye, and both of them will be away and busy on the night in question. He was invited to the party, so we sent a revised RSVP. Before, he declined. Now, we’re sending his daughter in his place.”

Aisling frowned. “Sounds a little loose.”

“It’s usually best not to overthink things. Simple is better. Trying to get you into the party with no connection to an actual invitee would’ve been virtually impossible. Thus, this is simpler.”

“Okay, I can see that.”

“We’ll have the passport, a driver’s license, and several credit cards with fake histories ready for you when you’re done in wardrobe.”

Aisling frowned. “Wardrobe?”

Hana laughed. “That’s your next stop. Other end of this floor on the opposite side of the fabrication shop.”

She turned and looked in that direction, as if she could see through walls. “I didn’t realize this level was so large.”

Hana’s lips twitched downward. “Dragonfly tends to compartmentalize information. In my opinion, a little too much, but then again, I’m only a tech. But it means you usually don’t find out about things until you need to.”

Aisling asked, “What’s to keep people from sharing information?”

The other woman smiled. “We’re a secret organization. People are usually smart enough not to do that.”

“I might have a hard time keeping the existence of something as interesting as the wardrobe department to myself.”

Hana made a show of thinking about it. “Well, they probably won’t shoot you for letting that slip. But it’s not guaranteed. I think that’s how we lost the last new agent.”

Aisling rolled her eyes. “Right, sure, I definitely believe you. So, just come back and pick these up when I’m ready?”

“Yep. Stop by after you meet with Arthur.”

Aisling made her way to the door simply marked “Wardrobe” and was surprised by what she found behind it. Instead of the generally industrial spaces that she’d experienced so far, this one was set up like an elegant living room. Patterned wallpaper covered the walls, with numerous paintings on each. Expensive-looking furniture was scattered about the chamber, including a couple of chairs around a small table, a modest fabric couch, and a wingback leather chair.

A man sat in the chair, and he stood at her entrance. He had slicked-back gray hair and stylish glasses, and wore a blue pinstripe suit, white shirt, and purple tie with a matching pocket handkerchief. “You’re finally here. It is wonderful to meet you, Agent Keane.”

She extended a hand, but he swooped in and kissed her on both cheeks instead. “Your cover is elegance. There’s not much time to train you, so you’ll need to reach into whatever repository of memories you have of rich people behaving like rich people.” His tone suggested he found that amusing, and she laughed.

“I think I can manage that.”

“Good. You’re doubtless wondering about me. I’m Arthur Ellis. A long time ago, I was an actor on the stage. I reached a point where I was too old or too young for the roles I craved, so I came here to fill in the interim.” He laughed. “As you can see, I’m still here. I like this life. It’s predictable. I do take to the stage occasionally, though.”

He turned and walked toward the side of the room. “So, we need to get you some clothes. I’ll take care of your travel outfit and other details after we pick your dress for the party.” He opened a door to reveal a large walk-in closet. Men’s suits and clothes hung on one side, women’s outfits on the other. “Please, come in and stand in the light.”

Several spotlights intersected at one particular location, marked with a pair of shoe silhouettes on the floor, and she stepped into it. Arthur walked in a circle around her. “Nothing flashy for you, I think. It wouldn’t fit your look. You seem more the aesthete than the indulgent.”

Aisling laughed self-consciously, feeling odd as the focus of his hyper-attention. “I’d like to be indulgent. I just don’t have time for it.”

He continued to circle. “One thing I tell each agent who comes in here for the first time is that you should embrace every opportunity your role gives you. You will be someone who has grown up wealthy for this party. Act like it. Indulge.” He said the word as if it was something sinful. “Of course, don’t forget who you are or why you’re there. But the more authentic your enjoyment of the lifestyle is, the more perfectly you’ll play the role.”

He moved to the side wall and activated a display she hadn’t noticed. Laser lines gridded her body for several seconds, moving from head to toe and back again. Arthur made a small noise of approval. “I have the perfect thing for you.”

He went to the women’s rack and selected a dress. It was gorgeous—red velvet with black trim and a black sash across the hips. He laughed at the expression on her face. “You like it then?”

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never worn anything that elegant. It’s possible I’ve never even seen anything that elegant.”

“I’m sure this is only the first time of many, my dear. I will step out of the room. Put this on, then come out.”

She complied. The dress felt as good as it looked. The neckline plunged to an almost uncomfortable depth, but it was amazing in the mirror. One side of the garment was cut far higher than the other, but the sash fell over it to compensate. She walked out tentatively, and he shook his head and clapped his hands. “No, no. You are your cover identity now. Scion of wealth. You’re confident, entitled, and no dress would ever impress you, for you yourself are the thing that impresses. Show me what that looks like.”

Aisling obeyed his earlier direction and thought about representations of rich people she’d seen. She straightened her back, because they always had perfect posture, then put a slight insolence in her walk as she moved.

Arthur nodded. “Good, good with the body. You’ll need to practice that until it’s automatic, but it’s quite good. However, your face is too thoughtful. You’re not thinking about things, you’re waiting. Waiting for the next excitement or moment of indulgence to serve itself up to you.”

It took more than a minute’s worth of trying on different expressions before he was satisfied. “Good. Remember that. Now, footwear.”

“I’m partial to boots.”

He waved a hand. “Impossible. The best I can do is probably a thicker-than-average heel. We’ll only want to give you a couple of inches, so you don’t intimidate the men around you with your height. I think they should echo the black and red motif.”

“Okay.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you feel like this is all coming at you very fast. Don’t worry about it. We’re just setting the stage properly so that you can do the things that only you can do. Now let me show you a couple of clever secrets about the dress.”

Arthur readjusted the cloth from how it naturally hung and exposed a cunningly concealed pocket within. “It won’t be able to take anything heavy without distorting the shape, but you could put something simple in here. If you have something heavier to hide, that can go into the sash. It’s reinforced around your waist to handle the weight.” He showed her where that inner pocket was, right at the spot where the fabric gathered before falling over her hip and down her leg.

Aisling shook her head with a bewildered smile. “Amazing.”

He fluttered a hand near his face. “I know I am. Thank you for saying so.” They laughed together. “However, this won’t work with your hair color. We’ll need to change it. Blonde, I think.”

Finally, something I can do. “I can take care of that with a spell.” He was satisfied with that, so she changed back into her street clothes and left him, bestowing proper cheek kisses before she departed. She headed to identity first, to inform Hana that she would have blonde hair, and they picked out a color together. The tech said, “We’ll have your documents ready before the end of the day.”

“You’re awesome.”

Hana beamed. “I know.”

Next, it was back to Brodie MacGregor’s domain. Aisling told him what Heinrich had said about the makeup kit, and the big man laughed. He did so exuberantly, as he did most things. “Perfect. So, we’re doing the elegant rich person thing?” She nodded, a little nonplussed to hear it referred to that way. “Good. I’ve got all sorts of stuff for that.”

He went to a cabinet, pulled several items out of it, and set them in front of her on the table. He unzipped a small pouch. “This is the makeup kit.” He opened the compact. “The mirror is just a mirror. Nothing exciting there. But underneath the powder,” he wedged his finger into an almost invisible seam and popped the pieces apart, “You’ll find this little guy. He’s a sensor disk. Can do audio, video, electronics, all of it.”

Brodie set that down and held up a silver lipstick tube. “This is one of my favorite things. If you twist it this way and pull it off, it’s a normal lipstick.” He displayed it. It was a very bold shade of red. He recapped it and said, “But if you twist it this way,” he spun it in the other direction and pulled, “It’s something else entirely.” The lipstick had broken apart in the middle, and a wire ran between the pieces. “A garotte.”

She winced. “I doubt I’ll have to kill anybody, and I certainly don’t think I’ll be in a position to do it by surprise with that.”

He shrugged as he reassembled it. “You never know. So, practice with it. All the better if you don’t need it.”

He held up a mascara brush. “Hidden in the bottom are two kinds of dissolving tabs. Make sure your fingers aren’t wet when you pull them out. Drop the right-side ones in a drink, and within a couple minutes, your subject will be wishing they’d never eaten anything before.”

She shook her head. “I thought you were nice.”

He smiled. “It’s nonlethal. That is nice. But if you’d rather just knock them out, push on the left-hand side. Those will do that without all the stomach upset.”

Aisling couldn’t argue. “So, powder, lipstick, mascara. Is that it?”

“Eye shadow palette.” It was small, with four colors and a double-sided brush to apply them. “It’s modular. You can release each block by pushing on the side and then pulling on it. Underneath the first is a drug to take if you're poisoned. It won’t be fun, but it might save your life. Slot two holds a stimulant tab. The third, a painkiller. And the fourth is adrenaline. Just be warned, when it wears off, you’ll crash.”

“That’s quite a kit.”

He chuckled. “It is. Now, the only other thing we can legitimately sneak in with you is a wallet.” He gave her a small, zippered pouch. “Inside it, you’ll want to put this.”

He held up a credit card, and she said, “Electronic lock pick.”

“Right. Next, local currency.” He slid a folded wad of cash into it, then showed her another credit card. “Cash on the run.” He dropped that inside and held up a blister pack of chewing gum. “Finally, this is the most important thing. It’s so important, we’re giving you two of them. One for your purse, and one to keep on your person.”

Aisling nodded, sure of what that must be. “The infomancer links.”

“Exactly. Every odd-numbered one is. The even-numbered ones are actually gum, in case you have to share.” He bundled everything together. “Sorry we don’t have more to give you.”

A laugh escaped her. “This seems like an abundance of riches, trust me.”

He grinned. “Come back alive from this one, and we’ll really show you what we can do on your next mission.”

With these kinds of tools at her disposal, Aisling was confident of success. “Count on it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Aisling took all her stuff home and spent an hour practicing how to access the hidden tricks in the devices she’d been given. She tested to be sure a standard clutch purse would hold them all, on the assumption that’s what she would get from Arthur.

A check to see how things would fit into the inner pockets of the dress and sash would have to wait until she received it, but she figured that she’d use one to hold the infomancer relays. The other would hold an addition of her own.

An unexpected text hit her phone in the early evening, and she headed back into the office. Mia was waiting in her workspace. The infomancer smiled. “I’m glad you could come.”

Aisling laughed. “How could I resist?”

“Put it up there.”

She uncrated the dragon and connected to it magically. She flew it up to the back of the infomancer’s chair, leaned it forward, and twisted its head to look at her. Mia laughed. “On the desk, please.” A part of it began to glow.

Aisling piloted the dragon over to that spot in a series of hops, then left it staring at the infomancer.

Mia shook her head, but Aisling saw the smile the other woman tried to hide as she spoke. “Okay. First, we’ll back up the existing AI.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve got it backed up.”

“I never trust anyone else’s work. Don’t be offended.”

Aisling chuckled. “I think I am.”

The other woman’s lips twitched up in a smile. “You’ll get over it. Backup’s done. All right, uploading the AI.”

A hologram appeared in the middle of the room, slowly spinning on all its axes. It began small, but then grew to resemble the nodes and line structure the other woman had shown her before, though less vibrant here than in VR. They watched in silence as it became more and more solid, and the connections turned into a full web between the nodes. A bell chimed when it was complete. “Verifying. Stand by.”

Aisling observed the glowing matrix as it spun slowly in front of her. It really was beautiful, both visually and because of what it represented. New lines began to extend out of the nodes. She asked, “What’s it doing?”

“Learning. Give it a few seconds to understand its surroundings.” The capillaries pulsed as they grew and stretched and divided, but stopped after the promised interval. “Okay. Looks like it’s set.” Her hand moved as if she was tapping a virtual button. “Hello, Theta-seven.”

A synthesized male voice with the mechanical edge Aisling always associated with artificial intelligence replied, “Hello, Mia. It is good to speak with you again.”

“And with you. I would like to introduce you to someone. The other person with me in the room is Aisling Keane.”

“Hello, Aisling Keane.”

She held in the laugh that her pleasure about what was going on threatened to bring to the surface, not wanting the AI to misinterpret it. “Hello, Theta-seven.”

“Mia, I sense that I am in a physical form. Avian?”

The infomancer confirmed, “Reptilian, I suppose, to be precise. You’re inhabiting a mechanical dragon.”

“Standby.” A few seconds passed. “Baselines updated for new information. Special characteristics?”

Aisling answered, “Uh, you have a metal skeleton with plastic plates for skin at the moment. They will eventually be metal. Your teeth are more or less for show. Your claws should be able to help you perch on anything that’s at least somewhat yielding.”

The dragon activated, each part of it twitching or proceeding through its full range of movement. It was both like and unlike the self-diagnostic, because it was easy to believe that a will was behind the motions. “This design is suboptimal.”

Aisling laughed. “Wow. Rude. Not cool.”

Theta-seven countered, “It is a fact. No emotion is included or implied.”

“It can be a little judgmental,” Mia admitted.

“So I see.”

“Theta-seven, what do you need in order to learn to use this machine?” Mia asked.

The AI responded immediately, as if it had been waiting for the question. “A full demonstration of its abilities.”

“I think we can arrange that.” A keystroke opened the door back out into the hallway, and more keystrokes led to the sound of more doors opening. “You should have a pretty unobstructed flight path. Just try not to crash into anything.”

Aisling nodded. “Gotcha.” She sent her magic into the dragon again, wondering if she should explain to the AI that the machine was actually an amalgam of technology and magic. A few moments of thought led her to the decision not to do so yet. She launched the dragon off the desk, guided it around the room, and then out the door. Her bifurcated vision allowed her to steer it past obstacles as it sailed through each of the rooms on the floor.

Cognizant of the AI’s requirements, she made her dragon climb, dive, and bank. She landed it and launched again several times. On each landing, the dragon’s tail swished as if to strike something, which was intended as a combat feature if she ever made a bigger version.

She continued to converse with Mia while she flew the machine, as piloting it was no longer something that required her full attention. After flying it for five minutes, she noticed that the holographic display in the center of the room was in a state of flux. The capillaries were extending further from the nodes, and some of them were thickening before branching out into smaller lines. “What’s that?”

“It’s learning about the dragon,” Mia explained.

Aisling landed it on the lighted part of Mia’s desk and disengaged from it. The holographic image continued to show heavy activity, with glowing pieces shooting all around the matrix created by the nodes, the lines, and the new capillaries. Watching it grow was captivating. After several minutes, the action slowed, and the AI spoke. “May I test this machine?”

“Yes,” Aisling granted. She didn’t join in with her magic this time, not sure how doing so might impact the AI’s learning. Theta-seven flew it around the room, just as she had, and then out the door. “It’s copying what I did.”

Mia nodded. “I imagine it will re-create the entire flight path. What better way to learn than by emulating exactly what it saw and judging any differences?”

Aisling shook her head. “That’s several levels of abstraction beyond where I normally work.”

The other woman grinned. “We’ll make a real tech out of you yet.”

“You know, I do have feelings.”

Mia laughed. “I know. And I know they’re not that easy to hurt.” The dragon swooped back in and landed with a flourish on the desk. Previously, she had always positioned it on all fours. Now, it set down its hindquarters like a dog and swished its tail. “I require permission to research dragons.”

Aisling shrugged. “You have it.”

“This will take some time and needs no direct oversight. However, initial results suggest that ‘Theta-seven’ is an inappropriate name for a dragon.”

Mia gave a soft snort. “True. It’s not quite Smaug or Tiamat, is it?”

“Do you wish to choose another?” Theta-seven asked.

The answer shot directly into Aisling's brain. “Yes. Shimmer. Your name is Shimmer.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Aisling passed Thursday morning in the office but couldn’t focus on her investigative work at all. She spent most of it chatting with Victoria, who managed to keep her entertained and laughing the whole time. At eleven, she got a message from Arthur that her dress was ready and gave Victoria a hug.

“Be careful, Agent Keane,” Victoria cautioned.

She laughed. “You know it. Try not to get into any trouble while I’m away.” She headed down to wardrobe at something barely under a run and tried on the outfit for the party, including the shoes, which were modestly high, as promised.

“It’s not much, but if you twist the heels off, a knife will pop out that you can use to fight,” Arthur told her.

“Won’t that be detected by a scanner?”

He shook his head. “Ceramic blade that fits seamlessly into the ceramic inner heel. It’s very sharp. Be careful if you have to use them.” Aisling nodded, then changed out of the dress and zippered it into its garment bag. When she emerged, he handed her a suitcase that was much nicer than the one she’d lost. He said, “Clothes for several days are in there. I’ve tried to give you multiple choices.” She gave him a hug and thanked him for his thoughtfulness, then portaled home, dropped the items off, and portaled back to the house in Ireland.

Her mother and sister asked what she was up to, but she told them she’d just come home to pick up something for an assignment. They pressed, and she said it was all very hush-hush and she couldn’t explain further. They were used to her nonsense by now and let it go, although her mother gave her one of those looks that promised a reckoning in the not-too-distant future. Great. That’s a fun social event to look forward to.

She went to Cait’s room and stole a bottle of perfume that had sat on her dresser, unused, for years. She emptied it out the window and used her magic to purify the container. The travel-size bottle would fit easily in the sash pocket of her dress. She filled it with a healing potion. It couldn’t hold a full draft, but some was far better than none. After this mission, I’ll talk to Brodie about customizing some gear for me.

She gave her sister and mother hugs, stole a pastry from the kitchen, and portaled back to her apartment. She’d already applied the stickers that Brodie had provided onto the dragon’s crate. They’d worked it into her cover story as a product she was bringing to show to a contact in town. It provided her with a plausible reason to be nearby and strengthened the logic behind her attendance at the party.

She changed into the new clothes she’d taken from the suitcase for the trip, a sweater dress, tights, and boots, all of which she’d loved on sight. Then she sat in front of her vanity and spoke the words to change her hair color, focusing on blonde as she did so. “Red to blonde to black to brown.” It was one of the oldest spells she knew and had been used incessantly while playing pretend with her sisters.

She packed her makeup and personal care stuff into the suitcase, then did a final check to make sure she had everything she needed for the trip. She wished she could take an extra case filled with her swords, her casting blades, more potions, maybe her leather armor, definitely her pistol, and perhaps a rocket launcher.

Aisling laughed at herself. “You have everything you need. And even if you only had yourself, you’d still have everything you need.” She stood, straightened her spine, put her face into the expression of bored indifference she’d practiced, and portaled to a spot near the St. Pancras station in London.

She hired a helper to deal with her bags and navigated security and the outer area with ease. Her first-class credentials permitted her access to the restricted lanes that eliminated almost every delay. As she neared the train, a uniformed porter took over from the one she’d hired. She handed the departing man a couple of bills as a tip and followed the new one, who took all of her bags except the expensive fashionable one hanging from her shoulder.

He vectored off to stow her luggage as another train employee escorted her to her seat. No one affiliated with the train line had asked for her credentials, which suggested they knew who she was on sight. The first-class compartment was filled with personal travel cubicles. Even though the trip was only about twelve hours long, and she wouldn’t need it, the chair could recline into a flat bed, and she had an entertainment screen, computer access, and a small minibar at her disposal.

She’d barely gotten settled in before a woman wearing an attractive dress in the colors of the rail line offered her a glass of champagne. Aisling accepted it with a small smile and a nod, suppressing her normal reaction, which would have been to respond with abundant thanks. She’d never gone anywhere in such style. Arthur’s words came back to her, and she leaned back and flicked on a movie. All right, I will enjoy myself.

Unlike her previous train trip, this one went without a hitch. She had a fine meal in the first-class dining car, accompanied by a glass of fantastic red wine. She was so relaxed that she even managed a short nap, which she would have thought impossible at the outset of the trip.

When the train pulled into the station, she didn’t have to concern herself with her bags. A porter removed them from the train and handed them off to a uniformed worker. He escorted her through the station and outside, then put her in one of many luxurious autonomous cars waiting for fares. She tipped him generously.

The entrance into the hotel was the same thing in reverse. A bellhop took her bags, and a worker came around from behind the desk with her room card. “We were alerted that you were on your way, Ms. Dunne. Your room is ready. If there’s anything at all we can do to make your stay more enjoyable, please let us know.”

She nodded and replied, “Thank you,” in what she thought was an appropriately bored tone. He escorted her to the elevator, which carried them up to one of the top floors. He opened the doors of her suite and led her inside. She had a gorgeous living room with large windows that showed the beauty of Barcelona. The furniture was all elegant, the very picture of luxury, and the walls were painted a deep, attractive blue, which offset the lighter-colored furniture well. The many wooden accents were dark and highly polished.

“This is your living area, and if you come through here, I will show you the bedroom and the wardrobe.” The bedroom was huge, with its own television and couch beside the king-size bed. A balcony stretched the length of it, with a partially opened sliding door permitting a fresh breeze to play in the room. The wardrobe area had a bathroom with both a shower and a large bathtub, plus all the other luxuries one could want.

The rest of that space was a combination of walk-in closet and dressing area, with a full-length triple mirror set against one wall. She handed him a pair of folded bills. “Thank you very much. Please arrange for room service. Wild-caught salmon for the entrée. Whatever else comes with it is fine.”

He nodded. “Very good, Ms. Dunne.” As he departed, her bags arrived, and she instructed the bellhop to put them in the wardrobe. He offered to unpack for her, but she declined. As she handed him a couple of bills, she realized why Brodie had included so much cash in her supplies.

She found mineral water in the cooler, took one to the balcony, and drank it slowly as she looked out over Barcelona. When her food arrived, it was more than impressive. Her main course came in a heated box so she could enjoy the fruit appetizer and the elegant salad beforehand. Dessert waited in a cooling chamber, and she had a carafe of decaffeinated coffee to go with it. A bottle of red wine to accompany the meal had already been poured into a decanter.

The spread was wonderful, but suddenly it also felt lonely. She tapped her phone, and a moment later, Lance’s face appeared. He grinned. “Fancy meal at a fancy hotel. Now you realize what fun being an agent is.”

She laughed. “I don’t know that it’s fun, but it's certainly luxurious.”

“Enjoy every second of it.”

“Arthur said the same thing.”

Lance nodded. “As he did to me, not so long ago. It’s good advice. Remember, you never know when that next meal is coming.”

Aisling sipped her wine. “Oh, believe me, I’ll be plowing through this food all the way through the chocolate cake at the end.”

He changed the subject. “Confident about your mission?”

She finished chewing and wiped her mouth. “Yes, actually. I mean, I’m basically playing pretend. There’s not really that much danger as long as no one sees me planting the relays. The way they concealed them, and the actual size of them, makes the whole thing seem really doable.”

“Brodie and his people are solid like that.”

“They gave me an eyeshadow palette with tablets for emergencies. I’m guessing that’s not part of your gear. What do you get instead?”

He laughed. “Depends on the mission. Sometimes, it’s a lighter and I pretend to be a smoker. Other times, it’s a lucky charm of some kind. Once, that was a bullet casing, which was kind of on the nose. Did they give you everything you need?”

She pointed her fork at the screen. “And then some. My heels can be used as knives.”

“Always a clever place to hide things. Knives that stick out of the toes or the back of the shoe are pretty useful, too.”

They talked about general stuff, including his recovery, while she ate her meal. When it was time for dessert, she let him go. “Thanks for chatting with me.”

He grinned. “Any time. But when I’m back on my feet, you owe me a meal. I feel left out, here.”

Aisling laughed. “Deal. Assuming you don’t find a way to get yourself shot in the meantime.” He sputtered, and she killed the call before he could slip in the last word. She finished her cake one slow bite after the next and sipped a cup of decaffeinated coffee. Another cup accompanied her back to the balcony, where she looked out over the city.

Being here felt right. This was the life she’d wanted when she’d joined Dragonfly. Her time as an investigator had seemed like a delay, but now she realized it was more or less the perfect preparation for this moment. She’d gained experience, learned how things worked, and gotten out into the field a bit, all of which built her confidence and her desire for the position. Now, for the first time since the boot camp training she’d undergone before joining the organization at headquarters, she felt like she was exactly where she needed to be.

Aisling finished her drink, headed into the bedroom, and turned on the TV. After a shower, she opened up Shimmer’s crate and set the dragon on the table. Through external speakers, he noted, “We are in Spain.”

She chuckled. “Indeed we are.”

“Why are we in Spain?”

“I have a party to go to tomorrow night.”

He clarified his question. “Why am I in Spain?”

Aisling grinned, remembering how she’d asked a similar question to Lance what seemed like an eon ago. “You’re my backup, buddy. While I’m doing my thing, you’ll keep an eye on the outside for me.

“Perfect. Now?”

She laughed again. “No. Now I’m going to sleep. The operation is tomorrow. I just thought you’d like to not be in the crate.”

The dragon turned in a circle, then lay down, tucking his nose into his tail. “Thank you. I will rest, then, too.”

Aisling fell asleep quickly and again dreamed of shimmering dragons flying through the sky.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Aisling woke up and decided to spend the day pretending to be Tiffany Dunne to shift into the proper headspace for the party. She ordered a late breakfast from room service and relaxed with a book while eating it. When she was finished, she took the carafe of coffee out to the balcony, sat on the reclined chair, and looked out into the haze that covered the city.

After that got boring, she talked with Shimmer and came away from the interaction thinking that, while the AI was an upgrade from hers, it still had a long way to go before she would make Cait jealous or annoy Aza, both of which were personal goals. She spent a couple of hours pampering herself, including a massage in the spa, then showered, dressed, and ate a late lunch in the restaurant so she could practice her identity in public.

By the time she returned to her room, she was confident about her ability to pass as the child of a wealthy entrepreneur. With the car set to pick her up at seven for the hour-long drive out to Vicente Sallent’s mansion, she got serious about her preparations in the late afternoon.

Aisling showered again and did her makeup and hair, then pulled on the dress. It fit perfectly, and even when she moved in it, the perfume bottle holding her potion tucked in the sash and one of the packs of gum containing the infomancer devices secured in the secret pocket in the dress remained invisible. She wasn’t sure how the inevitable metal detector wouldn’t pick up on the electronics but trusted that Brodie and his people had planned for that. She slipped on the shoes but didn’t test the knives, because she hadn’t confirmed with Arthur that they could be put back in once they were removed. They would be her final backup plan.

Aisling strapped on her watch and slid in her earpiece, then tested the connection to headquarters. Oliver’s voice came back over the line. “This is HQ.”

“Hey, Double O. Just testing the link.”

“Optimal. No worries there. Need anything?”

She blinked in annoyance. “Eyedrops. This lens is itchy.”

He chuckled. “That feeling is purely psychosomatic. The lens is fine. As soon as you quit thinking about it, you’ll stop noticing it.” He flashed a cartoon image across her vision as a test, and she laughed.

“Next time I need some entertainment, I’ll let you know.”

“I’m here. Just yell when you need me. I’m in for the duration.”

“You don’t usually work second shift,” Aisling remarked.

His voice was neutral when he replied, “Pulled some strings. I had a thing.”

“My lucky day. Talk to you later.” She tapped her watch to sever the connection. Having an active link to the outside while she walked through the security at the party would be a bad idea. She didn’t believe for a second that Oliver “had a thing,” but appreciated that he hadn’t put her in his debt. Still, she’d have to take him out for coffee or something as a thank-you afterward.

Aisling shoved the rest of her equipment into the clutch purse, which was black to match her sash, and checked her look in the three-way mirror. She had to admit, with her blonde hair swept back, the dangling earrings she’d chosen, and the heavy makeup, she was at least a worthy partner for the elegance of the dress.

“Good. I’m ready.” When she entered the bedroom again, she called, “Shimmer. Front and center.” The dragon stood, then stretched. She laughed at the sight. “Where did you learn that?”

“Aza.”

“Careful with that one. You’ll pick up bad habits.” She slid open the door to the balcony. “I’m about to leave. I want you to follow at a distance where you won’t be seen and then find a position where you can watch over the area around the building I enter.”

“Instruction accepted. Should I go now?”

“Yes.” He flew past her and was quickly lost from sight as he climbed. She put on Tiffany’s bored expression and headed for the lobby.

A limousine pulled up shortly after she exited, doubtless the work of the hotel staff. It had a real driver, and she checked to be sure that it was for her as he opened the door. He smiled and said, “Yes, Ms. Dunne. The Sallents are looking forward to meeting you.”

She relaxed during the drive, poking around on her phone and looking at the passing landscape. It was difficult to resist checking in with Lance or Oliver, but she had to assume she was now under surveillance.

The tingle of anti-magic emitters poked at the edge of her senses as they pulled through a wrought-iron gate at the bottom of a long road going up a tall hill. The lights and upper floors of a mansion were visible at the top. It was all white, with abundant black iron balconies, and dramatically lit to emphasize the architecture. Spotlights also illuminated the manicured grounds around it, turning the early evening into almost daylight.

Her door opened as soon as the limousine stopped moving and she climbed out to find a handsome man wearing a tuxedo waiting for her. He extended an arm, and she looped hers through it. He kept his eyes forward as he greeted her, “Ms. Dunne. The hosts are so happy you could come. However, I’m afraid you will have to surrender your cell phone just beyond the entrance.”

She lifted a shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “That’s fine, I suppose. May I ask why?”

His lips twitched. “Doubtless the gossip pages would be willing to pay a high price to know what goes on at this party, or for evidence of certain individuals talking to certain other individuals. Mr. and Mrs. Sallent want everyone to have an enjoyable time, so they ensure no such surveillance is in place.”

Aisling laughed as if such a thing couldn’t bother her. “Very well. I do understand. Although I must say, it might be fun to see myself on the gossip pages.”

He smiled as they reached the desk where she had to surrender her phone and gave a slight bow. “A pleasure to have met you, Ms. Dunne.” She handed her phone to a beautifully dressed young woman behind the desk and received a small token in return. As the woman placed it in her hand, she exclaimed, “Oh, I love your rings. And your bracelet.”

Aisling smiled. “Thank you.” It was amusing that she was being complimented on what were probably her most lethal weapons at the moment. Well, at least they would be if not for the darn anti-magic emitters. Her rings were hidden inside small sheaths that made them look appropriately elegant for the outfit.

Aisling stepped into the main reception area and took her place in the line of people waiting to greet the hosts. Vicente looked just like his picture, and she forced her eyes to ignore the large and distracting nose. His wife, Zaira, was thin and beautiful, with tanned skin, an expensive dress, and a thick gold necklace that drew the eye. Both had clearly had plastic surgery, as the skin on their faces looked dramatically younger than that on their hands.

When she reached them, he pressed his lips to her hand, and the woman kissed her cheeks. Both remarked on how much they admired her father and hoped to have a chance to meet him one day.

“He would have loved to come, but had some business thing. He likes to keep details secret until the last minute, if he can’t just hide them forever.”

Zaira laughed. “That seems in character with what I’ve read about him.”

Vicente asked, “Are you taking an official role in his business?”

Aisling gave a small pout. “Eventually. He didn’t come from wealth, you know, so he thinks my siblings and I should work our way up.”

The man laughed heartily. “A good philosophy, I think. A pleasure to meet you. Please, enjoy the party.” She took the dismissal for what it was and headed straight to a server holding a tray full of champagne. She claimed a flute and sauntered around the perimeter of the room to take stock of the people and things inside.

The first floor might as well have been designed to be the perfect space for a gathering, and she wondered if perhaps they’d had it redone that way. It was large, open concept with pillars dotted throughout to support the levels above. Tall tables stood at intervals, with people gathered around them talking. She tapped the control to enhance the audio pickup of her earpiece so she could eavesdrop but found little worth listening to.

The oppression of the anti-magic emitters was like an itch at the base of her skull. It made her want to turn on her connection to Oliver again to have someone to talk to, but that would be foolish in such a crowded space. People were still arriving, and while she didn’t know if the party had a schedule, it seemed like whatever might happen wasn’t imminent. She steeled herself, put Tiffany’s expression on her face, and walked to the nearest couple to introduce herself.

The phrase “fun social event” bounced through her head as she moved from group to group, interacting with each as her cover identity would. She allowed herself to be slightly awkward, but not overly so. She didn’t want to appear overconfident or particularly interested. Her guess was that, if they thought about her at all, people would think she was there out of boredom or to listen in, see what the talk was, and capture anything that might be a benefit to her father’s corporation.

After about an hour of mingling, during which she planted three relays around the room, a chime rang. She followed the sound and discovered the host and hostess standing halfway up the sweeping spiral staircase that led up to the second level.

They raised glasses of champagne and Vicente called, “To all of you. Please enjoy our hospitality. Nothing at all is expected of you tonight, only that you relax and appreciate one another’s company. Thank you so much for joining us.”

His wife finished by toasting, “Cheers,” and drinking her glass dry.

The crowd responded in kind. Empty glasses were deposited with servers who were now circling with tumblers of a tasty-looking mixed drink with a cherry in it. Aisling was considering whether she could afford to indulge in any more alcohol when a pattern of movement caught her eye. If she hadn’t done surveillance work before, she wouldn’t have noticed it.

She had though, and she did notice. Several men filtered away from the party and headed for the same door from the room. Aisling pushed down her desire to move quickly and wandered in the same direction. She wound up in the kitchen and spotted one of them going down a narrow staircase. A server with drinks stood nearby. She walked to him.

“I’ll take one of those. Where might I find a restroom?”

His annoyed expression signaled that she’d managed the right level of condescension as he replied, “Two on this floor, and one downstairs.”

She headed toward the stairs and put a little weave into her walk. If something was up, the lack of security was strange. On the other hand, if they were trying not to draw attention to the gathering, posting a guard would work against that goal.

Aisling made a show of looking for the restroom, then went in and washed her hands. Several cameras had been mounted out in the hallway, and she had no way to defeat them. She tapped her watch again to increase the audio pickup in her earpiece until the silence registered as an audible hiss.

Aisling left the room, lifted her drink to her lips with elaborate care, and sipped at it. A pretend stagger added to the illusion as she walked ahead, listening carefully. When voices entered her hearing, she slowed, then stopped when she could barely make out what was going on. A couple more taps on her watch activated recording mode, and she hoped the on-board memory would be adequate since she’d turned off her phone when she’d surrendered it to them.

She looked guiltily around, reached into her secret pocket, and pulled out a piece of gum. She put it in her mouth and chewed, then leaned back against the wall as if she’d just taken something far more interesting than simple sugar into her system.

A voice she recognized as her host was saying, “That thread is closed. We don’t believe we have exposure beyond Becker. All others are still viable. Reports.”

No one came to drag her away, so she figured her playacting was working. She swapped the old piece of gum for a new one, again acting as if it hit her with an immediate euphoria. The voices described a criminal organization that spanned multiple countries and various enterprises, with Vicente apparently at its head. Finally, her nerves got to her, and she hid the evidence of the gum back in its plastic and headed upstairs.

In the kitchen, she finished her drink and exchanged the empty for a full one. It was just a prop, as Aisling had a job she needed to wrap up so she could get out before someone decided she’d trespassed a little too far.

Aisling prowled through the first floor again, including both restrooms, to carefully place infomancer relays in hidden locations. They stuck when pressed against a surface, and as long as she put them against something sufficiently light-colored, the chance that they might be noticed was small. She saw a couple going upstairs, kissing along the way, and trailed behind.

They turned right at the top, and she went left. Her lens showed her the layout of the place, with small markers as to what room was what, and she went into the main bedroom. She had just placed a relay when the door opened to the sound of laughter. A quick drop got her down below the level of the bed. Zaira Sallent and a man who wasn’t her husband came in together. The woman started pulling at his clothes, and Aisling tried to cast a veil by reflex. Of course, her magic wouldn’t come.

Fortunately, they went toward the small sitting room on the other side of the mammoth chamber, and she was able to sneak out while they were distracted. Aisling activated her full connection to HQ, spooked by the near miss. “Give me a path to his office. I think I need to get out of here fast.”

No response came, but her lens illuminated with the route she’d requested. She moved as quickly as she could while still pretending to be drunk or drugged and wondered what the people watching the cameras were making of it. Maybe none were present on this level, or they simply expected that guests would explore and weren’t concerned, given the invite list. After all, she still hadn’t spotted any security people.

Sallent’s office door was locked when she finally reached it, and she hissed in anger. It didn’t have an obvious lock, so she made a show of digging in her purse for her lipstick and palmed the credit card in her other hand. She put on the lipstick while she pretended to lean on the wall for support and pressed the card against the door. It clicked open, and she slipped inside, hoping that this wouldn’t be the thing that set off a security response.

When no hue and cry occurred, she figured she was in the clear. She returned the items to her purse and did a visual inspection of the bookshelves, desk, and so on. The room itself was simple but elegant, with dark wood and forest green walls as the dominant style choices.

She placed two infomancer relays and murmured, “It feels like there’s something off about this, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

Oliver replied, “Standby.” His voice sounded scratchy. Her lens shifted into a different mode that showed electricity patterns inside the walls. A suspicious convergence caught her attention, and she walked over to that wall. A small indentation was present in the wooden trim, and she pressed on it.

An elevator door opened in front of her. She stepped into it and discovered it had only one button. She muttered, “This is without question the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Shimmer, I’m in an elevator. I presume it goes down. Keep an eye on things, and if anything weird happens, do your best to let me know.”

“Define weird,” The mechanical dragon requested.

She pressed the button. “Let’s say dangerous, instead.” The door closed, and the lift descended.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Aisling looked down and muttered, “Stupid, stupid.” Sure, has to be an agent in case they have to improvise. Not sure this is what they meant. She smiled at the camera in the corner of the elevator, shrugged, and stumbled around, pretending to be drunk. A quick move sent her purse down to the floor, and she bent down to get it, which hid her face from the cameras. She whispered, “Shimmer. I need you to cause a distraction.”

“Parameters?”

“No harm to anyone. As much noise as possible. Property destruction is acceptable.”

“Planning.” There was a short pause. “Ready.”

“Go.”

She realized she’d been recording all the while, and warned, “Double O, I might be running out of memory space. Might want to pull the data and do new recordings on your end.” She stood, pulled the plastic case of gum out of her dress, popped the last real piece in her mouth, and palmed the infomancer relay. Staggering backward to bang into the wall, she grabbed the bar that ran around the interior and pressed the relay to its underside.

The car slowed to a smooth stop. She put on a wide smile and raised her hands. The elevator door opened and revealed a pair of guards, one who looked like he was barely out of high school, and the other who had the wrinkles of a veteran.

“You shouldn’t be here, Miss,” the older one informed her.

Aisling shrugged. “I know. I admit it. I was snooping.” She laughed at herself. “But why was there an elevator? I had to find out. I’m sure you understand.”

“Well, you found your way into the mechanical area and the garage,” the younger one replied. “Nothing exciting down here, I’m afraid. Just sometimes the boss likes to duck out for a drive without anyone bothering him. So, let’s go back upstairs.” He motioned for her to drop her hands as he stepped into the elevator.

She moved to the side, out of view of the older one, and dropped her purse. The guard who’d entered reacted as she’d hoped he would and bent over to pick it up. She smashed an elbow onto the back of his neck, and he clattered down as his body locked up from the blow right on the nerve center.

Aisling darted out of the elevator before the other guy could get his pistol out of its holster, and landed a punch in his solar plexus. He still tried bringing the gun up even as his body fought to breathe, but she grabbed his arm and used it as a lever to ram him into a wall. He dropped, dazed, and she punched him in the temple to knock him out. With a shake of her head, she muttered, “This would’ve gone much easier for the both of you without the anti-magic emitters. Sorry.”

A quick search of their pockets found nothing interesting. She took the gun belt off the younger one, wrapped it around her waist, then grabbed the baton and pistol from the older one and shoved those into the belt. A swift jerk separated their IDs from the holders on their uniforms, and she dragged them half in and half out of the elevator so the doors couldn’t close. If she was lucky, that would delay any security response from that direction.

She turned and walked down the corridor. “Still there, HQ?”

“Still here. Just be prepared for the signal to go down. It’s not particularly strong.”

“I’m surprised you have it at all. Can you do anything about the cameras?”

“No.”

“Damn. Nothing is easy.”

* * *

Shimmer had followed the car during its hour-long drive with ease. His optical sensors made identifying and tracking things simple, and he already had a secondary ability to track Aisling through her watch. He had found a perch in a tree with a good view of the grounds and shifted into standby mode when she entered the building, with only his mind and eyes active as he watched for signs of trouble.

His calculations had indicated only a twenty-two percent chance that he would be required to do more during the mission and thus was surprised when Aisling gave him the orders to cause a distraction. He filed the data away for later use in improving his predictive abilities and surveyed the grounds.

The long driveway offered no opportunities, as anything he might do there would involve the potential for human casualties. Shimmer rotated his head to examine the big building. Its windows appeared to be composed of normal glass, and he was confident his metal body could pass through it without damage. However, once inside, his options would be comparatively limited.

He reactivated the rest of his body and flew to the top of the tree to get an unobstructed look in all directions. A large area to the side of the house was home to many parked cars. He accessed his remote connection to the web and pulled down data on them. He had no specific objective other than the knowledge that more data was better than less.

One feature stood out: a vehicle model that was exceptionally vulnerable to electricity. He assessed his internal power levels and judged they were adequate to create an electrical discharge. However, the mechanical dragon had not been designed to do so. Shimmer reviewed the schematics for his body and noted the tail section. Theoretically, if the metal skeleton was exposed there, he could generate a spark through a combination of internal power and external friction. And it was far enough away from the rest of his body that if something went wrong, he might still be able to fly and perch. It was a second’s work to analyze other possible solutions and discard them as inferior.

He brought his tail around, wedged sharp claws into the seam between one armor plate and the next, and popped it off. The metal skeleton was now exposed. The probability of success was above seventy-five percent, which made it worth the attempt, in his calculations. Shimmer leapt from the tree, spread his wings, and glided silently through the night sky toward his target.

* * *

Aisling reached the end of the hallway and found her progress blocked by a massive security door. It was so incongruous with what she’d seen so far that for several moments she just stared at it. She shook herself out of her reverie, pulled out the guard’s ID, and pressed it against the reader. A small panel slid up to reveal a keypad.

Aisling dug in her purse and put the credit card lock pick to work. The seconds stretched as nothing happened, but after a dozen of them, the lock beeped, and the door swung ponderously open. It led to another short hallway, which made a right turn fifteen feet away. After passing through the door, she pressed the button labeled “Close” on the wall to shut it again.

She crept forward and peeked around the corner. Ahead of her was the high ceiling of a large room. A wide metal catwalk with a protective railing appeared to go along the perimeter of the room. She couldn’t make out anything else, and the next few steps to get closer and see more were among the most stressful moments of her life.

The catwalk had security positioned around it. The area was rectangular. No guards were opposite her position, but she couldn’t see to the sides beyond her corridor. She pulled the compact out of her purse and used the mirror to look around. A guard was about ten feet to her right, but none appeared to be on her left.

Aisling pressed herself against the right wall so he wouldn’t see her and peered down into the open area surrounded by the catwalks. Below were six groups of six objects, judging by the positioning and the portions she saw of them. The objects were human-sized, and each sextet was positioned around a central console like petals on a daisy. As her attention went from the big picture to specifics, she realized each of the pods had a transparent canopy. Through the top of one, she saw a serene female face, apparently asleep.

She whispered quietly, “Are you seeing this?”

Oliver replied, “Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“No idea.”

Aisling noticed a uniformed technician in a blue jumpsuit as he walked into her field of view. He bent over a pod, tapped some information into a tablet, and moved on to the next occupied one. She zoomed her lens to look at the screen on the side of the pod. It showed vital signs, plus other symbols she couldn’t make out.

She flinched backward as all the guards suddenly reacted, moving, turning, or hefting their rifles. “What’s going on?”

Oliver laughed. “Your dragon just blew up a car.”

Aisling couldn’t repress an inward chuckle. It wasn’t quite the distraction she’d expected, but it would serve. Which, she thought, was more or less how her relationship with the AI-driven dragon had gone so far. “Then I guess I better get on with my own bit.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

The smart move probably would’ve been to retreat, but as her sisters had pointed out on a number of occasions, Aisling wasn’t generally prone to make the intelligent choice. Hoping that the guard to her right would be distracted enough that he wouldn’t see her, she bolted out of hiding and onto the catwalk. She scurried left, and when an opening appeared, she took it.

It led to a staircase going down. She crouched where it switched back on itself at a landing and whispered, “Are you suppressing their security system?”

“No.”

“Weird. They have to be seeing me on the cameras. Can you find out what’s going on?”

He sounded reluctant. “It would risk discovery. Of me, and possibly of the repeaters.”

Aisling couldn’t sacrifice the point of the whole mission because of her improvisation. “Damn. Never mind, then. If I screw this up, at least we have the backup plan in place.”

She finished walking down the stairs. An opening ahead gave access to the floor with the pods, but another hallway led toward the back. She turned down it and walked into what looked to be a break room. The walls were covered with cabinets, a coffee maker and supplies were positioned in a prominent location, and a refrigerator hummed away in a corner.

Two men in blue jumpsuits sat at a table across from one another. She smiled and said, “I think I’m lost. Can you help me?” They looked surprised at first, but as their eyes tracked down to her gun belt, their attitudes changed first to concern, then alarm as they realized what they were seeing.

The workers looked at each other. Aisling ran forward to attack. The one who was quicker out of his seat got her attention first. She planted her foot and whipped into a back kick that landed her heel on his chest. It knocked him stumbling backward all the way to the wall, where his head struck hard. He groaned as he sank down to the floor.

The second man hadn’t risen but was digging in a pocket for something, probably an alarm trigger. She took one running step, put a hand on the table, vaulted it, and landed with her knees on his chest. His chair fell backward, and he hit the ground with her on top of him. The impact drove the breath out of him.

Aisling dug into his pocket and found a phone, which she tossed up onto the counter. She rose and pulled her purse out of her belt on the way over to the one she’d kicked. He was dazed, and his eyes looked like he was probably concussed. She reached into the purse, withdrew her mascara, and clicked out one of the knockout tabs. With great care, she pressed it against his lips, not wanting to get any of the drug herself.

It took effect, and she returned to her other target. He’d found his breath but was wisely still lying there unmoving.

She sat cross-legged beside him. “A couple of options for you. One, I give you the same knockout drug I gave your friend. Two, I give you the poison that’s in the other end of my dispenser.” It was a lie, but all was fair in interrogations. “Which way we go depends on your response to some questions.” He nodded with eyes full of fear. “What’s going on down here?”

He stammered, “I just record information and send up a flag if it’s not right. They don’t tell me what’s happening.”

She could tell that he was holding something back. “But you have an idea.”

He winced, and a tear leaked out of the corner of his eye. “The people. The ones inside the pods. I don’t think they’re willing participants.”

“Maybe consider a new career going forward.” She gave him the drug, and he accepted it willingly. The revelation sent energy through her. For the first time since she’d gotten in the elevator, she thought it was a good thing she’d decided to improvise.

“Did you hear that?” she asked Oliver.

“Yes. You should really get out of there. People who will do that sort of thing won’t hesitate to kill you for discovering it.”

“Which is why I need to get the ones in the pods out if I can.”

“That’s not part of your mission.”

“It is now.”

Oliver sounded satisfied. “I had to try to discourage you, because this is a truly stupid idea. But I’m glad you made the choice you did.”

An even greater sense of rightness blossomed in her thanks to his support. “You can always count on me to choose the least smart option, my friend.” A locker area was attached to the break room. Aisling stripped off her dress and shoes, buckled the gun belt around her waist, and then pulled on one of the technicians’ blue coveralls. She shoved the extra pistol and baton into the locker, then wiped her makeup off with her dress before tossing it in with the other stuff. Finally, she jammed her feet into a pair of boots.

A few steps revealed that they fit too poorly to use, so she went to the men she’d knocked out and compared her feet to theirs. When she left, she wore boots and one of them was barefoot. She felt a small pang at leaving the daggers hidden in her heels behind but consoled herself with the fact that she still had Brodie’s bracelet on her wrist.

Tablets were stacked in a recharging station near the mouth of the corridor, and she carried one out onto the central floor and pretended to interact with it. She noted the guards above and spotted the blue-suited people nearby, but all that fell into the background as her magic returned.

Aisling bit down on an exclamation of surprise, waited until no eyes were upon her, and cast a veil around herself. She stayed immobile until the technicians were far away from the occupied pods, then crossed to one and extended her veil so her action wouldn’t be seen. It took an effort of will to press the green button on the side, as she feared what she might find.

The pod’s cover clicked open, and she pulled it up. The occupant was a woman, her head shaved but stubbly, probably in her late twenties. She wore a gray jumpsuit that looked similar in style to her own. She whispered, “Hello, can you hear me?” The captive didn’t speak. Aisling touched her gently, but there was no reaction.

Suddenly, text appeared on her lens. “Help us. Captives.”

All right, now we’re getting somewhere.

“How are they controlling you?”

The reply was almost immediate. “Drugs. Neck.”

“Can you help me breach his system?”

The next reply answered so many questions. “We are his system.” It all made sense. If they were running the security and had decided she was an ally rather than an enemy, they must have kept her presence a secret.

Shimmer piped up, “People are running into the house.”

“What kind of people?”

“People in suits. They have guns in their hands.”

Tick tock, Aisling. Rage filled her, and for once, she saw no reason to hold back. She snapped, “I need a tech team in the transport room, along with additional transporters. We have to get these captives out of here. They apparently have some sort of suppression drug feeding into their neck, so medical personnel as well.”

“On it,” Oliver shot back.

“Shimmer, anything you can do to delay the men with guns without getting damaged, do it.”

“Please clarify. Are injuries to those with weapons acceptable?”

Looking around at the six filled pods, and the others presumably awaiting occupants, she growled, “Perfectly acceptable. In fact, I’m going to cause some myself.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Aisling readied herself by digging in her purse, opening the eye shadow kit, and releasing the one that held the stimulant. She dry swallowed it and tucked the bag back into her belt. She drew the pistol and held it in her left hand, then set the baton down on the now-closed pod in front of her. The burst of energy hit her system, and she dropped her veil.

The technicians were the first to react and the first to go down as she blasted them with lightning. She grabbed the baton and dashed across the floor a few steps ahead of the gunshots that tried to catch her. Her plan, such as it was, depended on the guards’ distraction and surprise, and so far, it was working out. She shoved the baton into her left hand with the gun, slammed force magic into the floor, and flew up into the air.

Her power fled the moment she entered the anti-magic field again, and she felt its loss keenly. But her trajectory was true, and she landed next to a guard who was bringing his weapon around to point at her. She grabbed the baton, slashed it into the hand near the trigger, and broke it. He howled as she dropped to the ground and kicked his legs out from underneath him, then arched her back and slammed both of her heels down into his chest.

The guards weren’t wearing armor of any kind, which she thought was a poor choice on the part of whoever was in charge of facility defense, and she felt ribs crack under her heels. Aisling threw her legs back over her head into a backward somersault that brought her to her feet. She’d hoped not to have to shoot anyone, but the nearest guard was fast and already had his weapon trained on her. Her first shot missed. His didn’t.

A bullet slammed into her shoulder, and she dropped reflexively to the catwalk with a scream of pain and rage and anger. She switched the gun to her other hand and fired three times before he could reacquire her. The guard went down. She rolled to the side and used the first one she’d taken down as cover from the guards running toward her as she awkwardly dug in the suit’s pocket for the perfume bottle that hid her healing potion.

She popped the top and downed the liquid. The pain lessened as the healing began, but it hadn’t contained enough to fully heal the damage. The bullet was pushed back out of the wound, but she continued to bleed. She waited for a moment, calculating angles, then dashed at the nearest enemy. He jerked his rifle up but missed with the first round, and then with the rest as the recoil took his barrel upward.

She leapt at him, wrapped her good arm around his neck, and pulled him over in a flip. He hit the metal grate in front of her and the sound of a bone breaking joined the sound of his impact. She kicked his weapon down onto the floor below. A bullet sparked off the wall next to her, and she threw herself over the railing after the gun.

Her magic came back just in time for her to break her fall with it. She cast another veil and moved to a different location. After rotating her arm to make sure she could count on it to function, she launched herself back up to the catwalk, where four guards remained. She landed next to one, threw an arm around his throat, and yanked him around to use as a shield against the others. The gun in his back prodded him forward as she advanced toward the nearest foe.

Unfortunately for her captive, the others didn’t care about their ally. Bullets struck him from two rifles at once, and he went down. She emptied her pistol at the next one and he fell, bleeding. Two remained, but she had lost both the pistol and the baton. She ran to make herself a more difficult target as she reached to her wrist and grabbed the bracelet. A touch of the buttons caused it to twist and move, leaving her holding a dagger a moment later.

Aisling aimed herself at the nearest enemy and hurled the dagger in mid-step. His eyes went wide and he tried to dodge, but wasn’t fast enough. The blade pierced his throat. The last one was only a few feet behind him, and she leapt over the falling man to deliver a kick to the other. She took another bullet, this one to the leg, which changed her trajectory and momentarily knocked her brain offline. Her body crashed into his, and they both went over the railing.

Aisling instinctively used force magic to cushion her landing. He didn’t, and bounced off a pod to land in an unconscious heap beside it. When her thoughts were her own again, she limped to the side of the chamber and launched herself up one last time. She recovered her dagger and walked to the security door. Some of the guards had apparently come through it, as it was open. She pushed the close button and levered off the keypad with her knife.

The blade severed the wires easily as she ensured the door would stay shut. That task complete, she took the stairs down to the bottom level and noticed she was leaving a trail of blood from her leg wound. She opened a portal to permit the tech team to enter. An assault unit came in with them and deployed to guard all the entrances and exits.

One of the medics sat her down to dress her wounds.

“Just stem the bleeding,” Aisling insisted. “I’ll get a potion when we’re back.”

When she was taken care of, Aisling exhaled a long, tired breath. “Shimmer, go back and wait on the roof of the hotel. I’ll pick you up in a while. If you’re in any danger, find concealment and let me know where you are. I will come for you. You have my word.”

Pounding came from the thick door above, but Dragonfly personnel were ready for trouble, and she was confident she’d disabled it.

The dragon answered, “It will take most of my power to get there, but I should be adequate for this assignment.”

“Good. Be careful.”

She watched with admiration at Dragonfly’s efficiency as the others brought all the living guards and technicians down to floor level and escorted them through the portals back to the base. The transport techs were busy liberating the infomancers by simply floating them out of the pods and through the portals after they were cleared by the medical personnel.

When the only ones remaining were her and the last members of the tactical unit, the rest pulled out, too. One asked, “Should we blow this place up before we go?”

Aisling shook her head. “Too much danger to those above. I think it’s safe to say that we’ve ruined this particular operation, though. Good work.”

The armored and helmeted man grinned. “The way I hear it, you’re the one who did the good work, Agent.” He nodded at the portal. “My job to be the last one out. After you.”

Aisling groaned as she pushed herself to her feet. “That’s an order I’m happy to obey.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Aisling spent most of Saturday asleep, waking a few times for long enough to have a snack before nodding off again. During those moments of consciousness, she’d texted Victoria and insisted the other woman come to the coven with her that weekend. After some persuading, her friend agreed, and the next morning, they portaled together to Ireland.

Breakfast was already on the table, and she introduced Victoria and Shimmer to her whole family. Her father had returned from Oriceran and Cait was in town from Boston. Her friend was appropriately taken with Cait’s dragon partner, as everyone was when they met him.

Later that afternoon, Aisling and Victoria headed outside for a walk. She released Shimmer, and the magical dragon flew up into the air. Aza leapt after it, and soon the two were flying together.

“So this is your other life, huh?” Victoria asked.

Aisling nodded. “Yep. In all its wonder and terror. By the latter, I specifically mean Brianna.”

Victoria laughed. “Your family’s great. I can’t believe you actually had to fight off a pack of werewolves, though.”

“Several packs. It’s something that lives in my nightmares, not my dreams, that’s for sure. But we survived and continue to thrive.”

“Is it weird having two such different sides to your life?”

Aisling considered the question. “It’s really not. I’ve always been scattered. Ask my family.” They laughed together. Sunlight flashed in their eyes as Shimmer banked and caused a reflection.

“What is Shimmer doing?”

Aisling shrugged, shaded her eyes, and watched him fly. “I don’t actually know. I mean, obviously, he’s flying after Aza. But why? All I can say is that the AI Mia put into him is far better than anything I could’ve done.”

Her friend laughed. “Maybe he’s improvising.” Aisling had told her about that parameter of her past mission. “So, on to the important stuff. You and Lance?”

Aisling pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “Do you ever stop?”

Victoria’s continued laughter was unabashed. “Not really. No, definitely not.”

“He’s got a girlfriend. Or maybe a boyfriend. I don’t know. He said he was in a somewhat serious relationship.”

Victoria leaned over and prodded, “But what if, you know….”

Aisling snorted. “I asked him that, kind of. He said he’d do what was needed to get the job done.”

The other woman lifted an eyebrow. “Would you, secret agent?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. If I was in a relationship, almost certainly not. But it’s not like there’s a great risk of either of those things happening.”

“And now I have a project. Thank you.”

Aisling groaned at the sincerity in the other woman’s words. They spent the rest of the day watching Shimmer and Aza fly and visiting various people in the coven so Aisling could introduce Victoria to them.

After dinner, they joined Cait and Aza for the trek up to the top of Croagh Patrick. Cait did her usual thing when they got to the summit while Aisling built a bonfire for her and Victoria. Shimmer didn’t need the warmth, as far as she knew, but curled up near the flames, anyway. They talked for a long time about anything that came to mind. Eventually, Victoria said, “I thought you were bringing me here to train.”

She smiled. “No. I mean, you still owe me that, and I will claim it. Don’t doubt that for a minute. But I just kind of wanted to share this all with you.”

“This makes me the only person who knows about both sides of your life, doesn’t it?”

Aisling chuckled. “Don’t turn your investigative skills on me, woman. I’m hip to your tricks.” They laughed together, and then she admitted, “But yes, it does.”

Suddenly, Shimmer spoke through his external speakers. “Aisling.”

She replied, “Shimmer.”

Victoria tapped her chest. “Victoria.”

Aisling laughed, and the Dragon tilted his head to look at Victoria. After several seconds, it looked back at Aisling. “I have completed my revised modeling based upon my experience with you at the big building, including creating a distraction and intercepting those with guns, and today with the other dragon.”

“Mansion,” Aisling corrected. “The big building is called a mansion.”

The dragon did the head tilt thing again. “Noted.”

“And?” Aisling pressed.

Shimmer straightened and lifted his chin. “I require upgrades.”

Aisling and Victoria broke into laughter together.

Finally, Aisling replied, “My friend, your wish is my command. What can I do for you?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Rajani Tristesse, known to others only by her chosen name, “Kali,” or her chosen title, “Dea,” entered the meeting room at a fast stride, her external demeanor still while her internal balance hovered on the edge of violence. The chamber was designed to draw attention to the person in charge, and no one inside it waiting for her arrival had any doubt as to who held that role.

All the surfaces were white, almost painfully so in the harsh illumination that came down from on high. The ceiling was two stories above, with all that space left empty, a tactic calculated to make those at the dual curved conference tables feel dwarfed by its size.

The eleven people who reported directly to her were already seated. There had been twelve, but one had failed her and was no longer able to attend meetings due to his recent painful demise. As Rajani reached her chair at the apex of the two tables, the guard walking behind her and to the left advanced and pulled it out for her. The one on her right pushed it in for her as she sat. Both stepped backward to take their regular positions slightly behind and to the sides.

The pair were outwardly identical in all respects, clad in black body armor from the boots on their feet to the gloves on their hands and the disquieting masks that covered their face and hair. Her underlings were all dressed in business suits. Five occupied the curving table to her left, and six the mirrored version to her right. No chair was set at the opposite end. She was the single focal point of the large room.

Rajani’s sharp makeup and the vibrant clothes she wore were the only splashes of color in the chamber. A blood-red gown hung loosely to cover her from neck to feet and hide the tighter-fitting outfit underneath and the weapons it held. Her arms were bare, except for the thick bracelets at her wrists and the rings gracing every finger. Her hair was as dark black as the room was bright white, and the straight locks were pulled back into a long braid.

As was her practice at the start of each meeting, she stared into the eyes of each of her subordinates and lingered there to search their faces for signs of discomfort before moving on to the next. She let the silence hang as she finished the cycle. Only one failed to measure up to her standards. Appropriate, she thought, given his failure.

Rajani demanded softly, “Reports,” and called on each in sequence, leaving Vicente Sallent for last. When it was his turn to speak, he rose as the others had and made his way to the spot where the tables would have come together were they a little longer, directly across the chamber from her.

He stammered as he went through the details of his operation, culminating in the debacle at his mansion. He had explanations for his failure and solutions to offset it to share, and she waited patiently as he spun them out, one after the next.

Rajani nodded when he was finished. “These are good ideas. We will be sure to implement them.”

He frowned. “Dea?”

She looked up at the camera positioned on the ceiling and gave a small nod. The tech who was watching over the meeting activated a holographic display along a wall. It showed Sallent’s house. The structure was aflame, and while many fire trucks were on the scene, the blaze was clearly too intense for them to save the building.

Everyone in the room watched the screen, some in antipathy-filled amusement and at least one in horror, except for her and her bodyguards. She flicked her fingers, and the two men she trusted most paced forward, one curving around each side of the table.

Sallent caught the motion, panicked, and tried to run. The guard on that side of the room increased his speed and kicked him in the chest. The blow knocked him backward, directly into the sword the other was swinging. Her guards were as efficient and interconnected as always.

Vicente Sallent’s head flew off, and his body hit the floor an instant later. Her guards paced back to their assigned positions, and she waited while her subordinates, now ten in number, took in the development.

When their eyes had all returned to her, Rajani smiled. “A rather visceral reminder of the consequences of failure. What we do here is too important to permit mercy or second chances. Take the lesson to heart, and go.”

THE STORY CONTINUES

The story continues with book two, Never Say Never to a Dragon, coming soon to Amazon and Kindle Unlimited.

Claim your copy today!

AUTHOR NOTES - TR CAMERON

APRIL 11, 2023

I loved writing this book. Like, totally loved it. I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As usual, things happened that I didn’t expect when I outlined, and I had to improvise, but I’m pleased with how it turned out. It seems connected in style to Cait’s series, but stands alone on different ground, as well.

You didn’t think I’d let the wrongness in the East just sit there unaddressed, did you?

The supporting cast went really big really fast. I had a set of planned characters but kept needing more to solve problems I’d created. I really like Arthur. I think he’ll show up a lot.

I dropped some hints on what’s going to happen with Shimmer, but just between us, you can expect that the AI will develop its own unique personality and prove both a benefit and a bane to Aisling.

I’ve written a short story to accompany this series as well, a prequel that takes place during Dragonfly boot camp. You can find it here:

https://bookhip.com/JSTPANQ

The next book will deepen the story, especially around the new villain added right at the end. I sense that another plot thread will emerge in the next book, but I’m not sure what it will be. Part of the fun is the discovery!

Summer is almost at hand for me. I can’t wait. Five concerts between now and the end of the year. Trips to Hershey Park, Buffalo, and maybe Niagara and Toronto if I can get passports wrangled. Plus less day job work and more fun writing work. I have a traditional fantasy in me, I think. Possibly a dark fantasy. Needs fleshing out, but it’s in there somewhere. Of course, I also think I have a thriller in there somewhere, too.

I’m about to head out to Las Vegas for an academic conference that I love. It’s an exhausting experience, with stuff going from about 8am to about 6pm, but it’s my day-job-refresh the same way that 20Books Vegas is my author refresh. Of course I need to write while I’m away, too.

I’m continuing to listen to the Naamah series by Jacqueline Carey at the moment. And I just found out that the book I’ve been waiting for from her for ages is coming out this fall. It’s a retelling of Kushiel’s Dart (at least) from a different character’s perspective. I can’t wait to read it and see what different things she brings out in it. I also remembered what I wanted to spend my last two credits on: Chuck Wendig’s Wanderers and Wayward. I don’t generally do post apoc (although I often think I’ve got one of those in me as well), but I’ve heard SO many good things.

This is the part of the year where I get exhausted and my attention turns to old things. I’m rewatching Strange New Worlds for comfort while waiting on new episodes of Picard. I finished Andor. It hit the accelerator at Episode Six and was good from there, but I still feel like the start was too slow. Holding off on The Last of Us until summer so I can revel in it. Poker Face is still out there, and I’ve found like four other series that pique my interest.

I finished Wakanda Forever. My kid has apparently decided that they are a hermit and can pay attention to nothing but their phone. We did get to the theatre for All of Those Voices, Louis Tomlinson’s (of One Direction fame) Documentary. It was surprisingly awesome. I’m hoping John Wick 4 sticks around long enough for me to catch it in the theatre. And even though I find the Guardians of the Galaxy equally annoying as entertaining, seeing the last one of the trilogy in the theatre probably makes sense.

My video gaming is on pause. Too darn busy at the moment. But I think I’ll probably play some Baldur’s Gate on the plane. And I’m considering trying Battletech again. It’s weird that there’s no AAA game that I’m waiting for in the near term. Spider-Man 2 this fall is on the horizon. But I’m not sure there’s anything before that. I need the successor to Fallout, Skyrim, or Dishonored, please.

Right now, Aisling’s series is planned for 8 books. But if the sales of the first go amazing, I’m open to extending it to 12. I could tell stories in this world forever. Espionage, Gadgets, and Snarky Banter? Bring it on!

If you enjoy my babble, you should sign up for my newsletter. The link is down below.

Until next month, joys upon joys to you.

Standard monthly reminders - If you’re not part of the Oriceran Fans Facebook group, join! There’s a pizza giveaway every month, and Martha and (usually) I and all sort of fun author folks show up via Zoom to chat with our readers. It’s a great time, and the community feel to it is truly fantastic. The group is very welcoming and enthusiastic. Oriceran Fans. Facebook. Your phone is probably within reach. Do it!

Important note: I’ve written an Aisling short story for you to enjoy, about her earliest days with Dragonfly in the new employee boot camp. You can find it here:

https://bookhip.com/JSTPANQ

It’s yours for the minor commitment of signing up for my newsletter. I have absolutely no problem if you want to then unsubscribe for my newsletter. But with social media as quirky as it’s been of late, I’d love to have a channel to communicate with you that I can depend upon.

Before I go, once again, if this series is your first taste of my Urban Fantasy, look for “Magic Ops.” I promise you’ll enjoy it, and you’ll get more of Diana, Rath, and company. You might also enjoy my science fiction work.  All my writing is filled with action, snark, and villains who think they’re heroes. Drop by www.trcameron.com and take a look!

PS: If you’d like to chat with me, here’s the place. I check in daily or more: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorTRCameron. Often I put up interesting and/or silly content there, as well. For more info on my books, and to join my reader’s group, please visit www.trcameron.com.

AUTHOR NOTES - MARTHA CARR

MAY 9, 2023

I’ve started a project answering questions for my son about my life. I realized after last year’s fifth round of cancer, and then chemo this time that he was expecting me to die sooner rather than later. It’s been a lot for him to deal with and there isn’t much I can do to make it better, except tell him stories that I can leave behind – eventually. Hopefully, a long time from now. I’m going to let you guys listen in as well.

My author notes for this year are going to be answers to questions and all of you can get to know me better, too. Maybe inspire, maybe give you a laugh along the way.

Today’s question is: What has made your faith grow stronger?

Some of my background you know already. Dad was a minister and for the second half of my childhood I grew up on the grounds of a seminary. But the first half, I was hanging around inside churches waiting for someone, all the time. I was always surrounded by other ministers or people in school to become a minister and debates about Job or what Paul really meant were kind of common. I didn't know any other way.

Till I got old enough to leave and venture out into the world. A couple of things happened right at that same moment. Women were finally ordained in the church I was raised in, Episcopalian, and at the seminary where I was raised, and I knew some of the women. I looked up to them as mentors.

Then, the trouble began in earnest. Those first women, who had sought to spend a lifetime of service to others, were harrassed on a pretty regular basis. One of them, who had been my youth group leader, had her office broken into and blood poured all over her diploma. Kind of a Carrie moment.

It was also when the Equal Rights Amendment was narrowly defeated, and right around when women first got the right to have a credit card, buy a car on loan, or get a mortgage without a male relative's signatures. Welcome to the 1970's.

Our lives were becoming more and more of our own choosing, at the same time that there were others who thought that was a bad idea. I took note of it all and sorted through everything and wondered, how do I build the life that I want?

What does that have to do with faith? Faith is what fuels everything. Faith in myself, faith that the roads are fine to drive on, faith that a book will succeed with some focused effort, faith that when I get up to go run, my legs will hold up and keep moving. It goes on and on.

Lack of faith or worse, faith in a belief system that something won't work can stifle how big a life can grow. One of my least favorite sentences starts with, 'the problem with that is'. It requires the speaker to be able to predict the future outcome and it's rarely accurate but has stopped countless people from even trying to move forward. What if it fails? So what, I'll learn from it and decide if I want to try again, a little wiser.

I'll get to know myself and others a little deeper. And, sometimes, frankly, most of the time, I'll succeed. Maybe not the way I thought I would, but also maybe the way I needed to or even wanted to if I could only predict the future.

Taking that 'leap of faith', doing things that seem risky to others but are my heart's desire, and to keep doing them riding the ups and downs along the way is what has made my faith grow stronger. Stronger in myself, in the people who surround me and in the universe around me. I see how things can work in concert when I let them and join in instead of standing on the sidelines. It's the doing of things that I am curious about that has helped my faith grow stronger. Of course, first you have to be able to honestly ask yourself, what do I want to be doing? Then go do them, and discard what you didn't like, try again or keep going on what you do. Avoid the naysayers altogether. They're never going to be willing to pitch in and help build, but will actively try to tear small bits away. Look for the ones who want to help you look for solutions and build. Love you. Love, Mom. More adventures to follow.

OTHER SERIES FROM T.R. CAMERON

Urban Fantasy

(with Martha Carr and Michael Anderle)

Federal Agents of Magic (8 book series)

Scions of Magic (8 book series)

Magic City Chronicles (8 book series)

Rogue Agents of Magic (8 book series)

Witch Warrior (12 book series)

Secret Agent Witch (8 book series)

Secret Agent Witch (8 book series)

Science Fiction

(with Martha Carr and Michael Anderle)

Azophi Academy (4 book series)

OTHER SERIES IN THE ORICERAN UNIVERSE:

THE LEIRA CHRONICLES

CASE FILES OF AN URBAN WITCH

THE EVERMORES CHRONICLES

SOUL STONE MAGE

THE KACY CHRONICLES

MIDWEST MAGIC CHRONICLES

THE FAIRHAVEN CHRONICLES

I FEAR NO EVIL

THE DANIEL CODEX SERIES

SCHOOL OF NECESSARY MAGIC

SCHOOL OF NECESSARY MAGIC: RAINE CAMPBELL

ALISON BROWNSTONE

FEDERAL AGENTS OF MAGIC

SCIONS OF MAGIC

THE UNBELIEVABLE MR. BROWNSTONE

DWARF BOUNTY HUNTER

ACADEMY OF NECESSARY MAGIC

MAGIC CITY CHRONICLES

ROGUE AGENTS OF MAGIC

OTHER BOOKS BY JUDITH BERENS

OTHER BOOKS BY MARTHA CARR

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