CHAPTER Ten ARE WE THERE YET?
“So can you contact these guys? You’ve met every one of them at some time or another. I checked. Please? It would be really helpful.” Rosie batted her lashes at Glen.
“That won’t help you here.” Glen was referring to the office of the Jefferson Unit Sovereign. “Got other things on my list.”
“Come on. It’s not like this isn’t Black Swan business.”
“It may be Black Swan business, but it’s not Jefferson Unit business. If you want help from the Sovereign of Black Swan, ask Simon.” Glen got up from behind his desk, strode quickly to Rosie, pulled her into a breathless newlywed-style kiss that would have her thinking about little else the rest of the day, and said, “Now get out of here. Please. I’m busy.”
“Glen…”
“Elora Rose. You’re looking at a person who has forgotten the meaning of ‘spare time’.”
“I know. I’m not saying you’re not busy. You are. Of course. And I respect that immensely. It’s just that, the future of D.I.T. could depend on this first step. And after this I’ll never ask for help again.” She crossed her heart.
When she saw him hesitate, she went in for the kill, thinking that she wished Deliverance could see her right then. She stepped into his body, leaned in so that her smiling lips were brushing the stubble on his jaw that he hadn’t had time to shave away, and said, “I’ve been reading about this blow job technique I’ve never tried.”
Glen erupted in a growl that was a borderline snarl, took her by the shoulders and pushed her so that she had to take a step back. With narrowed eyes, he said, “Rosie, your demon side is the least attractive thing about you because you feel like you have to win every argument.”
“That’s not fair. All wives want to win every argument.”
“That may be, but all wives won’t go to the lengths you will.”
Rosie smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe they would.”
He said, “Okay. I give up,” but the gleam in his eye looked more like victory than giving up. “If I’m going to lose this one, I might as well have fun doing it.”
He opened the office door and told the kid on duty, “Make sure nobody disturbs me.”
“Yes, sir.”
He locked the door and turned back looking pleased, smug, and… turned on.
When he started undoing his belt buckle, he said, “Payment up front.”
Rosie laughed. “You’re not a werewolf, Catch. You’re a devil.”
“I’m not.” He flashed a salacious grin the likes of which she hadn’t seen before. “I’m just married to one. Now get over here and make me glad about it.” On the spot her demon genes decided she liked this new side of Glen.
Before he went to bed, Glen had talked to every guy on Rosie’s list. All but one agreed to interview.
“See? I knew you were the only person for the job,” she said as she eased onto his lap and sucked his earlobe as she bit gently.
“Hmmm.” He smiled lazily. “I’m kind of sorry you don’t have more for me to do. I’m growing partial to negotiating with you.”
Her upper body shook with laughter. “Oh, yeah? You want me to find more for you to do?”
Setting her away from his lap, he stood. “Yeah. But not tonight. I’ve got to get back down to the office and catch up.”
“Awww.”
“There’s no cheating the clock, madam.”
“Don’t make me sorry I told you Grieve calls me that.”
Glen laughed as he closed the door behind him.
Rosie’s next four days were filled with a dizzying parade of talent lined up by Grieve to interview one right after another. She got the impression, by the way Glen inquired about the timing of Torn Finngarick’s interview, that he cared about the outcome. On the third day, she kissed Glen goodbye and said, “By the way, I’m interviewing Sir Finngarick today.”
“Oh?” he said, trying to sound casually disinterested, but she heard the truth behind the veneer.
“What is he to you?” she asked.
“Long story. And I don’t want my feelings to influence your decision.”
“Now you have me really curious.”
Glen shrugged. “Just… see what you think. If you hire him, your feelings for me shouldn’t be the reason why.”
“Okay. I get that. But why is it of interest to you?”
“Got to know him on a job once. He’s been a floater for a long time and it’s a fate I wouldn’t wish on anybody.”
She nodded. “Okay. I won’t press and I’ll tell you how it went tonight.”
When Finngarick came walking through the door, the air changed in the room. Rosie surmised that it was the sex demon part of her makeup recognizing that certain something that some people have; a spark or essence that demands attention, even from happily married women.
“Sir Finngarick,” she said, motioning for him to sit down. It wasn’t a question. She knew who he was.
“Ms. Storm,” he replied in kind.
With a smile she said, “Commander Storm.”
She had to hand it to the fellow. Few guys would have the nerve to smirk at the person conducting an interview.
“Commander Storm,” he repeated, barely managing a respectful tone.
She cocked her head. “Was that hard to say?”
“What?” He grinned. “Callin’ you commander?” She nodded. “Truthfully?” She nodded again. “’Tis no’ that ‘twas hard so much as… silly.”
She stared for a few beats before bursting into laughter. The elf, correction, the sexy ass gorgeous elf, was right. It was silly. She’d been running around trying to establish her command by referring to herself as Commander, but the truth was that she hadn’t earned it and everybody knew it was pretend.
“So you say what you think.”
It was not a question but rather a statement thrown out for him to confirm or deny.
He nodded, looking around. “Most times. That a problem?”
“Truthfully?” He turned his attention back to her, smiled that she was throwing his question back to him, and nodded. “It could be. Yeah. Under certain circumstances. If you intend to speak your mind about whether you prefer scones or donuts, I don’t care. If you intend to argue with me about a command decision, that’s a no go.”
“Are you askin’?”
“Are you trying to be difficult?”
“No. No’ tryin’ to be difficult per se. Just lettin’ you know that I’ve seen a lot of active duty. I will no’ be taken advantage of. I will no’ be run over. I will no’ be used like a tool. Been there way too often. Done that enough for several lifetimes. Can I get a beer?” He was looking around again.
“Yes.” Rosie motioned to someone at the bar through the glass panel in the door that separated the room they occupied from the main part of the café. “Has anybody ever told you that throwing down a challenge is not the best interview strategy?”
His eyes came back to hers. “I’ve been with Black Swan since I was thirteen. This is my first interview. Up to now, they just tell me where I’m to go, who I’m goin’ with, and what I’m doin’ there. End of story.”
“I see.” She nodded. “So this is the first time you have a choice.”
She caught the tiniest hint of a jerk of his head. It was as if Finngarick hadn’t realized he actually had a choice. For the first time.
The bartender stuck his head in the room. “What kind of beer?” she asked Torn.
He looked over his shoulder. “Guinness Stout.” The bartender gave a single nod and closed the door. Looking back at Rosie, he said, “You mean… if I do no’ want what you’re offerin’…”
“If I’m offering.”
“Aye. If you offer and I have no interest, I can simply say no?”
“Absolutely. You’d just return to the duty you were serving. No hard feelings.” She wiggled her head. “Except on the part of my husband maybe.”
“Your husband?” He looked confused.
“Yes. You just talked to him. Are you implying you don’t know that I’m married to Glendennon Catch?”
Finngarick’s face split into a grin and he laughed. “You’re married to Glen?” His eyes drifted down Rosie’s body in a slow assessment that made her feel uncomfortable. “Well, what do you know?”
“I know he takes an interest in you.”
“Does he now?”
“Yes. He does. Do you take an interest in yourself?”
“Meanin’ what exactly?”
“Meaning that you’re not acting much like somebody who wants this job.”
He shrugged. “Truthfully?” She motioned for him to continue. “I’d want just about anythin’ that gets me out of what I’ve been doin’.”
“Badly enough to take orders from a woman?”
He raised his chin so that he was looking down his nose at Rosie with half-closed eyes. “Do you have some reason to think that’d be a problem for me?”
“Yes. And we both know what that reason is.” Rosie was referring to the incident that later had come to be known as the Battle for Jefferson Unit. Z Team, with whom Finngarick was serving at the time, refused to submit to Elora even though she was rightfully in command of the unit at the time. They ended up getting trapped in a lower level, leaving Elora and the older students to defend the premises.
“’Twas a mistake. And ‘twas a big one.” He lowered his gaze. “But we paid for it. Two of my teammates ended up leavin’ service because of that incident.” He paused for a second and looked out the window. “We all came to understand that our behavior was shameful.”
“If you’re saying it was a lesson well learned, I’ll accept that. But you still haven’t answered the question. So I’ll ask again. Would you have a problem taking orders from a woman?”
He looked Rosie in the eye and said, “No.”
“What about working with women? Would you have a problem being assigned a woman as a teammate?”
“No’ unless that would mean that I’d be lookin’ after my ass and hers, too.”
Rosie’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you don’t make a habit of looking out for teammates?”
He flushed. “No. Of course I do. I just meant that…”
“Yes?”
The bartender breezed in and set a pint of stout down in front of Torn. “Will ye be needin’ anythin’, missus?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Right now I’d bleed Earl Grey if you cut me.”
He chuckled. “Charmin’ image.” He closed the door behind him.
“Look. Finngarick. If there’s a problem working for or with women, stop dancing around it. The time to get it out in the open is now. Not when life and death depends on following orders.”
He took a sip and set the mug down. “I want to answer honestly. I’ve never lived with a woman. No’ in memory. E’en in childhood, it was just my da and me, such as that was. From thirteen on, I’ve lived and worked with men.”
“You engage women socially though.”
He laughed out loud. “That I do.”
“Do you, um, think of women as inferior?”
“No’ so much that. I just do no’ think of women in the kinds of situations my work finds me in. Except for that one time, it has no’ come up.”
“In other words, you think women are good for one thing?”
He flushed again, his Irish coloring betraying every emotion. “You’re puttin’ words in my mouth.”
“Well, women do that. It’s annoying, isn’t it?”
“Are you tryin’ to be annoyin’?”
“What if I am?”
“Well.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared while he thought that over. After a couple of beats, he offered a sheepish smile that was charming coming from such a hardened and jaded persona. “I suppose that would make it easier for me to relate to you.”
Rosie laughed. “Women are not as different from you as you think.”
He shook his head. “I can no’ let that go without argument, but if you’re offerin’ to take me out of rotation as a floater, I’ll give a genuine effort.”
“You’ll think before you act?”
“Aye. Do my best.”
“You’ll think before you speak?”
He drew in a big breath, took a gulp of stout, and slammed it down. “Aye. But you do no’ know what you’re askin’.”
“Alright, Finngarick. I’m going to put you in the lineup. Give you a try. Your record as an employee makes shit look respectable. But your record as a vampire hunter is, well, impressive.”
He ducked his head, looking almost embarrassed to be praised. It seemed he didn’t hear good things often. He also seemed to be at a loss for words.
“It would be customary when being offered a job you want to say thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “Em, thank you, Comman…”
“Do not finish that sentence!” He looked confused. “I’m a reasonable woman, not above hearing valuable criticism. It so happens that I agree that the choice of ‘Commander’ for a title is silly. I’ll have to think of something else.”
He cocked his head. “What were the other possibilities?”
“Sheriff.” He almost spit out the drink he’d taken and black stout on his light blue shirt would not have been pretty. “Yeah,” she agreed. “That was the conclusion I came to. I hesitate to mention the other.”
“Come on.”
“Commissioner.” She saw that Finngarick was battling to hide a smile and losing.
“Like Batman?”
She felt an instant kinship that he knew that was where she’d come up with the term. “How did you know?”
“You strike me as a DC kind of girl.”
“Wow.”
“Chief.”
“What?”
“Throwin’ my suggestion into the box. I like Chief.”
She repeated it. “Chief. Hmmm. Not bad. I might shop it around. If it causes people to spit beer…”
“I did no’ spit beer.”
“Almost spit beer,” she corrected, “then it goes to the shredder with the rest. But if it passes the smile test, it could be a keeper.”
“Glad to be of help.”
She looked at her watch. “So let’s hear your questions about the job.”
“Well, what would I be doin’?”
Rosie had to laugh again. Glen had called the names on her list and talked them into interviewing for a job without knowing what it was. Gotta love him.
“Did he even tell you the name of the unit?”
“No.”
“In this case, ‘what’s in a name’ will tell you a lot. It’s D.I.T. Department of Interdimensional Trespass.”
She spent the next half hour getting Finngarick up to speed on what they were trying to accomplish. The longer they talked the more engaged he became until, at the end, he seemed almost excited. There was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there when he’d walked in. And when he left, she thought he might have been standing a little taller. His gait and the way his body moved was more graceful and relaxed. She found herself hoping it was a good fit. For his sake.
The last people to interview were the twins. They had been incredibly quick studies. By the time they walked into the café with Gillis trailing, they could pass for having been born and raised in Edinburgh. They wore modern clothes, a little makeup, had the wild hair under semi-control, and were even more stunning, if that was possible.
Of course the bows and quivers strapped to their backs would draw attention even if they were plain.
They definitely looked different in modern clothes, but the animal-like athleticism of their bodies was evident as they moved gracefully to sit in front of Rosie. They’d chosen not to dress identically, but close, wearing the same clothes, but in different colors. Shivaun wore a rust-colored sweater over skinny jeans and ankle boots. Sheridan wore the same clothes but the sweater was teal instead of rust.
Rosie had a brief conversation with Gillis before she called the girls in. She inquired as to how much of modern life the twins had absorbed and whether or not they were comfortable with urban surroundings. Their tutor reported that their unusual upbringing should not be a hindrance to working for Black Swan.
“The only problem that has proven insurmountable is that they absolutely refuse to go anywhere without the bows and arrows.”
Rosie looked over in their direction. “Have they heard the creation story?”
“They have,” Gillis answered.
“Have they been through the written part of the interview?”
“Yes. They did well.”
“Have they taken an oath not to reveal anything they’ve learned about The Order?”
“All done. Every box checked.”
Rosie congratulated Gillis on a job well done, said she’d mention it to Simon, and asked her to send in the prospective hunters.
Shivaun took the chair like she owned it. Sheridan pulled up another.
“So we meet again,” Rosie said. They nodded. “Been busy?” They nodded again. “What’s been the biggest surprise?”
They both started to talk, but Rosie held up a hand. “One at a time.” She looked at Sheridan, whom Rosie knew would expect to go second, not first.
Sheridan glanced at Shivaun, but answered. “The number of people. I could no’ have imagined that there are so many people in the world. Or that they live so close together.”
Rosie turned her attention to Shivaun. “Electricity is the key to life as you know it. All this,” she waved both hands, possibly to indicate the restaurant, or Edinburgh, or the world, “depends on electricity. If it went away,” she snapped her fingers, “snap. It all goes and there’d be one gigantic mess on your hands.”
“If you want to work for Black Swan, you’re going to need to start thinking in terms of ‘us’. There’d be one gigantic mess on our hands,” she corrected. “Have you formed any thoughts about wanting to stay and work for me?”
They glanced at each other which, Rosie was learning, was as normal for them as breathing. That connection. That constant connection they’d had since birth.
“We’d like to hear about the job,” said Sheridan.
Rosie sat back. “Do you believe in ghosts?” They suddenly looked uncomfortable and, rather than looking at each for confirmation, as was their habit, they looked away. “There’s not a right or wrong answer. I’m asking because I may frame my comments differently depending on your answer.”
“There are stories about things in the New Forest, but we’re the only ones who’ve seen them,” Sheridan said.
“At least we’re the only ones who talk about it.”
“Okay,” Rosie said. “So would these be things that most people, here in Edinburgh, would say don’t exist? So they would tell you that what you ‘think’ you saw is your imagination or something like that?”
They nodded in unison.
Rosie continued. “What would you say if I told you that there are hundreds of worlds all coexisting on this planet, divided by the thinnest curtains? They’re unaware of each other because even the tiniest variation of vibration can create a different reality. We call those different realities dimensions. This particular dimension, where we sit, is known as Loti.”
After a pause, when they were sure Rosie was waiting for a verbal reaction, Shivaun was first to speak. “I’d say that is hard to believe.”
Rosie sighed, stood up, and disappeared.
Sheridan and Shivaun gasped and got to their feet so quickly they sent chairs flying. They looked at each other with eyes bugging out of their sockets and then turned to look back to where Gillis was talking with people at the bar in the next room. When they turned around, Rosie was calmly sitting in her chair, lifting a tea cup toward her smiling face.
“Sit down,” she said.
“How did you…?” Shivaun began, still standing.
“Sit down,” Rosie repeated more firmly.
They did.
“What…?” Shivaun began again, but really didn’t know where to go with that question.
“I’m part witch, part demon.” She scrunched her nose up. “I have a little bit of human in there, but not a lot. It’s the demon part that allows me to seamlessly move between dimensions. I can also travel along the corridors that exist between them. We call them ‘passes’.
“Loti natives normally can’t exist in the passes for longer than a few minutes, but Black Swan is developing the means to compensate so that you’ll be able to travel the passes and move between worlds. Not like I do, of course. You can expect to fly in a whister, but you can’t expect to fly like a bird. But enough about me. Are you following so far?”
Sheridan cleared her throat. “I’m no’ sure. You’re sayin’ that, if we work for you, we’ll be able to just, em, disappear like you just did?”
“That is what I’m saying. Oddly enough, in some ways you’re uniquely qualified because you’ve just successfully completed a test like no other and proved that you can quickly adapt to an entirely different environment from the one you’re accustomed to.
“The question is why? Why would we want to make it possible for you to move between dimensions?”
They glanced at each other. “We do no’ know.”
“Well, of course you don’t. The answer is because sometimes we get visitors from other worlds who are not acting in the best interest of Loti’s population. Like any community, we need security. Or police.”
The twins both scowled. “What kind of visitors?”
“Demons. Angels. Shifters. Vampire. The kind of creature doesn’t matter so much as what they’re doing. Right?”
“So, you’re sayin’ that sometimes otherworldly beings come and go, but are harmless.”
“Yes.”
“But sometimes they’re up to no good.”
“Exactly.”
“And when we discover they’re here and we do no’ like what they’re doin’, we do what?”
“On my orders, you run them down, wherever they go, and tag them. It’s a warning to stay away. If they return here, they’ll show up on our radar and be dealt with more harshly.”
“How are you goin’ to tag these otherworldly creatures?”
“Dr. Monq is working out the details. But the working theory is that we’re going to give them corporeal form long enough to insert a tag that can’t be removed.”
“Insert a tag? Like an identification?”
“Yes.”
“How are you plannin’ to do that?” Shivaun asked in a tone dripping with doubt.
Rosie opened her mouth to answer, but instead of saying she didn’t yet know, when her eyes drifted over the bows strapped to the twins’ backs, she began to smile.
“I believe I just happened upon the ideal delivery system. We can’t use firearms in the passes. Any kind of electrical or chemical disturbance causes extreme and undesirable reactions. But your bows need nothing but tension controlled by you.”
“We’re goin’ to protect the world from bad-actin’ demons by plantin’ tags with arrows?”
“Wow. You make it sound incredibly simple, but essentially yes.”
They looked at each other then simultaneously grinned and leaned into Rosie so quickly she would have flinched if she was human.
“We’re in!”
Rosie chuckled. “Not so fast. Now that I know you’re interested, I have a couple of questions.”
“Like what?” Shivaun’s excitement skittered away as her eyes narrowed.
“Like this. You two have no experience with discipline so far as I can tell. You’ve spent your entire lives doing as you pleased, refusing to obey rules.”
They exchanged a look that said there was no point in trying to deny it.
“If you come to work for me, you’re agreeing to be bound by strict military discipline, meaning that you’ll do whatever I say, when I say it, without stopping to consider whether you want to or not. You can count on me to give you orders you’re not going to like.
“Like, for instance, I’m going to split you up and assign each of you to a partner who is a stranger to you at this moment, because we’ll need your archery skills spread around. You’ll have partners who are cocky, insufferably macho ex-vampire hunters. They’ll probably challenge your status as equal partner every other minute. But you’ll have to make it work anyway.
“If you think you’re up for whatever I may throw at you, what you’re gonna get in exchange is the kind of adventure that only a handful of people will ever know. It’s also the kind of service that would make you legends if people knew about it. But unless they work for Black Swan, they won’t know.
“Now. How do you feel about all that?”
When they looked at each other, Rosie said, “Would you like me to give you a minute of privacy so you can discuss it?”
“Unnecessary,” Shivaun shot back. “Like we said, we’re in.”
Rosie grinned. “Welcome to D.I.T. That stands for Department of Interdimensional Trespass.”
Rosie was tired from days of interviewing, but also excited about the hunters who’d been given offers and accepted. She went straight to her office at headquarters without using the doors. After making some notes in her desktop about several of her interviews, she stepped over and opened the door.
“Grieve…”
Grieve threw what he was working on into the air and clutched at his chest, panting. Rosie remembered, too late, that she was supposed to use the doors so that people wouldn’t be scared witless when she appeared without warning.
“Oh, sorry, Grieve. I forgot.” Rosie waited while he began to pull himself together. She bent down and picked up some of the papers that had floated haphazardly to the floor.
When his breathing and heartrate began to return to normal, he said, “Think nothin’ of it, madam. I should be prepared for the unexpected.”
“I really am sorry. I’ll try to remember.”
“What was it you were goin’ to ask?”
“About the location for training camp.”
“Aye. We have two alternatives so far.”
“Wonderful! I can’t wait to see them.”
“How did the interviews go?”
“So good. We’ve got our people, Grieve. And they’re good,” she added.
“O’ course. I expected nothin’ less.”
“If you’ll text me the locations and descriptions of the training camp venues, I’ll go there before I come in tomorrow. I’ll give you my list of hunters then. I want to make some notes and make some decisions about how the teams will be paired up. Trying to assess strengths and weaknesses and assign people accordingly. I’ll run it all by Glen tonight. He’s got experience with this kind of stuff.”
“Indeed he does, madam.”
“Okay. Have a good night.”
“The same to you.”