INVISIBLE POWER BOOK TWO: ALEX NOZIAK (INVISIBLE RECRUITS) (24 page)

CHAPTER 56

I sat on that stupid couch in that stupid room, my arms wrapped around myself as if that could keep me from bleeding from the inside out. How could I have been such a fool to trust Bran? I’d walked wide-eyed into his plan to use black magic, knowing full well how it was the last thing I wanted to do. He wasn’t the one paying the consequences as tremors rocked me. All magic exerted a price, and I doubted feeling gut sick and rattled was going to be the price. More like a down payment.

Willie stood over by Bran who was inserting his nifty little tracking device into a laptop computer. The rational part of me said thank the Spirits we ended up with something. The irrational part wanted to scream and howl.

François
was once again sitting beside me so close our shoulders were rubbing. He must have guessed at the state I was in when I hadn’t told him to find somewhere else in that cavernous room to hunker down. Right now that would take too much energy. Energy I no longer had.

He leaned close to me and whispered. “Sometimes he can be a right blinkered arse.”

I turned, close enough I could see the yellow highlights in his golden brown eyes. My expression must have spoken for me as he quirked a brow.

“He might be my mate but that doesn’t mean I don’t know when he’s a wanker.”

I couldn’t have said it better, if I understood what he was mumbling.

Then he added, “Still we’d be knackered if he hadn’t done his sleight of hand.”

“Not helping, Fido,” I growled, exhaustion making my voice a low throated rumble.

Bran looked up from the computer, a frown marring his expression as he gave
François
a WTF look.

Great, just great. The warlock tramples all over me and has the gall to get possessive.

“The whole lot of you are hopeless.” I rose to my feet, staggering as I walked toward the kitchen, something to put space between me and the lot of them. If I could I’d have left, but then I wouldn’t know the location on the device.

“There.” Willie leaned further over Bran’s shoulder, jabbing a finger toward the computer screen. “Zoom in there.”

I admit it I went on alert like a hunting dog scenting fresh game. So I made sure I held myself still right where I was, one elbow leaning on the counter to prop me up. Cool as all get out as my skin dampened and my breath shortened.

François
rose and crossed the room and Bran punched the keyboard as if he were a geek. I thought bigwigs who ran multinational companies wouldn’t know a flash drive from a
flibbertigibbet. Leave it to Bran to surprise me once again.

“What do you have?”
François
asked as I unclenched my hands one finger at a time.

“What I suspected,” Bran muttered, whipping out his phone and playing with it. I swear he was keeping me in the dark intentionally.

“Oh,” Willie breathed, “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does if you know where the Council of Seven will be meeting tomorrow.” Bran didn’t even look up.

My stomach dropped. The Council? All roads kept leading back to the bloody Council. Or maybe that was just Bran’s fixation with them. I’d be focused one hundred percent on them if in . . . I glanced at the nearest clock and realized how late it was. Criminy, the spell took longer than I expected. The clock was already creeping closer to dawn than midnight.

“Just what I expected.” Bran’s voice jerked me back to the present, as he stood, agitation rolling off of him. He stalked to the center of the room and pivoted, his gaze zeroing in on mine.

Even hating him I could feel the zing of those too-blue eyes and feel the hum of his focus buzzing through him and from him, to me.

“What?” I didn’t mean to say the word aloud but couldn’t help it.

“Versailles?”
François
asked still focused on the computer, his back to the room. “It’s brilliant and audacious at the same time.”

I swallowed, still not knowing exactly what they were talking about but knowing it didn’t bode well for Van.

Willie straightened, looking from Bran to me, looking confused and wary at the same time. “Someone going to explain to me what’s happening?”

I could have kissed the Were though I doubted he’d understand why so I remained where I was, daring Bran to lie to me to my face. Oh, wait, he already had.

“Versailles is where the Council of Seven will be meeting tomorrow.” Bran said, a twist to his lips as he added, “Actually later today.”

“It’s also where the RER C metro line ends,”
François
said, rubbing a hand along his chin.

Willie glanced at him. “That was one of the trains passing through the
Porte Invalldes,
was it not?”Bran nodded but said nothing.

“So Versailles was where the Weres were taking . . . “ His voice trailed off as he glanced at me.

“Where they were taking my brother,” I finished for him. Then asked Bran, “So is the Council behind Van’s kidnapping? And Vaverek?”

“I don’t believe so.” He spoke as if afraid to rattle me. Too little too late. “I have a gut instinct that Versailles is where Vaverek plans to stage another test of his drug. It’s what I’d do.”

“In front of the Council?”

I could hear Willie’s gulp from where I stood. I knew how he felt. If I had any spit in my mouth I’d be doing the same thing. But I couldn’t. Not while I was frozen in place, running through the ramifications of Bran’s words.

A test? A shifter drugged to go
rugaru
, which ironically was a very old word from the French to mean crazy-assed wild and cannibalistic. To become
rugaru
in front of the Council and any humans in the area was shifter suicide. Then the true despicable genius of the plan hit me and I staggered.

Bran jerked, reaching a hand forward but
François
was at my side before I could blink. Obviously didi-shifters possessed the speed of their plain shifter cousins.

“What?” Willie demanded. “What’d I miss?”

“
Sacre bleu
, Willie.”
François
whistled through clenched teeth as he made sure I was propped against one of the kitchen stools before he explained. “Think! What does Versailles have that makes it the perfect place to prove the shifters are dangerous and a threat to both humanity and the Council?”

Willie looked like he was mentally calculating then a smile wreathed his face. “Ah, I get it. Lots of people around. If the shifter kills some of them . . .oh, shit.”

Weres could be masters of understatement.

“Yeah, humans. Tourists from all over the word. School groups.”
François
scrubbed his hands over his face. “What better place to make a statement.”

“Where is the Council meeting tomorrow?” I asked Bran, pleased my voice didn’t wobble. “If we know where we could get there first. Spot Van and stop him.”

Bran shook his head as if I was being way too naïve. It wasn’t naivety driving me, it was desperation. “No one is given the final coordinates of the Council location until just before one’s meant to appear.”

“So you’re supposed to just wait in Versailles? Until they contact you?” Anger shot the words from my mouth like bullets.

“Yes.”

I stepped away from the stool, fear giving me a backbone. “So what?” I asked myself as well as the rest in the room. “We do nothing? We just wait for Vaverek to win? Let Van get shot down—“ I choked, then straightened my shoulders. “Wait for Van to be gunned down as a rabid wolf?”

All eyes turned to Bran.

“I have a plan,” he said. “And you’re all involved.”

CHAPTER 57

I thought I’d done a damn good job of biting my lip until it bled while Bran outlined his plan. Short, succinct and to the point, it was worthy of a master tactician. There was only one problem. I didn’t believe a word he said.

Oh I believed his plan, but I didn’t believe that Van was going to come out of it alive.

That didn’t set too well with me. I’d made my mistakes by trusting him, but Bran’s solution was going to place Bran’s wellbeing first and foremost. That piece I was a hundred percent sure of.

Even as Bran’s words faded into the tense silence of the warehouse Willie and
François
’ gazes shifted in my direction, waiting for my agreement.

Well this witch had been kicked in the teeth one too many times lately to roll over and say
yes, massah
to this particular warlock now.

I stood straight, locked my legs so I wouldn’t crumble and announced, “I’m going to bed.”

“What?” Willie did the tennis tournament back and forth, tracking between me and Bran who didn’t bat an eyelash and
François
who was shaking his head. “What’s that mean? Are you in or not?”

I marched right past Bran. Let him figure it out.

“You coming to Versailles?” he demanded as I stepped into my bed room.

“Oh, I’ll be there.” With my own plan.

“That’s good then, isn’t it?” he was speaking to the other two as I closed my door, not waiting for the answer.

As I stood before the bed, knowing there was no way I was going to get much sleep, I was too wired, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

No one knew this number, except for the IR team. My fingers shook as I pulled out the phone and read the text.

Beware the
sign of the cross.

That’s all it said.

With a small laugh I sank to the edge of the bed. Leave it to Jaylene to change my focus. No doubt this was one of her crazy premonitions, her gift of second sight being as useful as a match in a snowstorm. Most times what she saw was gloom and doom, so I guess her message could have been worse. And the very fact she sent the text meant I wasn’t so desperately alone. Someone, even just one person, was thinking about me.

I typed in a response.

Thanks. Versailles tomorrow. Ten a.m.

Then hit send. I don’t know why I shared that much. Maybe so someone would know where to come looking for my body. Or if I didn’t show up they’d know where to tell my father where I’d disappeared.

If he cared.

I sank my head into my hands. A week ago if someone had said I’d no longer trust my father I’d have laughed in their face
. But in spite of Bran’s glib words I wasn’t counting the Council as blameless in whatever was about to go down. It made sense that Vaverek would set up Van to go
rugaru in front of the group to prove something about the shifters. That tracked. But the whole why behind the action is where I differed from Bran’s interpretation.

I didn’t know the why but my gut told me it was bigger, and badder than Vaverek proving a point. He could stage the rugaru experiment anywhere, but he wasn’t. He was using the Council or the Council was using him. One or the other.

And what was I going to do about it?

I had no idea but between now and tomorrow morning I had better think of something.

CHAPTER 58

I heard the footsteps round the end of the warehouse where I huddled on an old stone bench. It felt like it too. As unyielding as a certain warlock I knew.

“You mind some company?”
François
asked, drawing near, his voice still undercover English with a French accent. Good agents never, ever forgot their assignments and always stayed in role.

I so was not a good agent. I was barely a passable one and there were doubts about that.

Easing my shoulders down, I scooted over on the slab of rock. “Sure. Grab a seat but don’t complain if your bum goes numb.”

He actually laughed. A sound I don’t know if I ever heard before. I tucked that away into my packet of regrets, a packet getting bigger all the time. Then I realized something I’d almost forgotten. Shifters could walk with such a silent tread that most humans never heard them.

“You checking up on me?” I asked, no heat to my words as I angled my head to look at him.

“No.” He kept his face in profile to mine, staring out into the darkness as the moon slipped behind some clouds. “I always like to catch a quiet breather before a mission. Helps settle the nerves.”

Somewhere far away sounds ebbed and flowed, like the sea in the distance. Probably Parisian traffic but I liked the image of the ocean better. Not like me, grabbing on to the fantasy instead of reality but lately reality had sucked, big time.

I found myself looking in the same direction as
François
as I asked, “You ever doubt an assignment?”

“All the time,” he snorted, which made me feel tons better.

“Yet you go anyway?”

He hesitated, bracing his elbows on his knees before saying, “Sometimes there are no good choices. There’s only the best choice you can make at that time. I make my peace with that and move forward.”

Not exactly what I’d asked, but then we played in a world of shadows. It only made sense that there would be no black and white choices.

“You second guessing going tomorrow?” he asked, his voice low and non-judgmental.

“No.” I shook my head, sure of this piece. “Without me my brother stands no chance.”

“Then what’s eating at you?”

It was such an American phrase coming from this man that it stopped me for a second. But only enough to take a deep breath. “Motivation.”

“As in yours or Vaverek’s or the Council’s?”

Or Bran’s. But I didn’t say that. Instead I wrapped my tongue around what I’d been wrestling with out here in the cool night air. “There’s always going to be a Vaverek,” I said. “Or someone like him. Same with the Council. Ultimate power corrupting the players.”

Including my father, I wanted to shout, but bit my tongue.

“So you’re debating your motivation?”
François
had the grace not to laugh at me, which I took as a win.

“My goal is to save Van. Always has been.”

“But?”

I turned on the seat, looking directly at
François
until he couldn’t ignore me. “But is it enough?” My voice was tight and low. My emotions bubbling beneath the surface. “Is my wanting my brother safe enough reason to embroil others in fighting Vaverek or fighting the Council or . . .” I waved my hand before me. “Seems damn selfish to me right now.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”
François
knitted his hands together. “But you’re forgetting the family that was killed by the earlier shifter. The one most likely driven by Vaverek.”

“But . . .” I hadn’t forgotten the family, especially the little girl
. “Maybe I’m being stupid but I have to make sure I’m doing the right thing for the right reason.”

“That you’re not fighting just for your brother?”

“Yes.” I leaned forward, mimicking
François’
pose. “I’m asking you and Willie and . . .“

“And Bran.”

“Yes.” I bit off the word. “To risk your lives for my brother.” I paused then added, “If I’d seen Vaverek torture hundreds, or there was a threat to the city, or the world was at war, then I’d have no doubts. But right now I feel like I’m starting a war rather than ending one.”

“If we did not go with you tomorrow would you go alone?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

Now it was my time to snort. “Because Van is my brother.”

“Any other reason?”

I twisted my hands together. “Because it’s not right. What’s been done to him. He’s a good man.”

He tilted his head as if considering my words. When he spoke there was none of the witty, urbanite Franco I once knew, or the suave and controlled
François
I knew now, but a man who’d faced his own demons. “Thus in silence in dreams' projections, Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals; the hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand, I sit by the restless all dark night—some are so young; some suffer so much . . .“

“Poetry?”

“Walt Whitman, wrestling with the same issues. Seeing the individual soldiers who fought your country’s Civil War, row upon row in hospital beds.”

“What does a dead white guy’s poetry have to do with my brother?”

“When light faces off against dark then light must win or the world as we know it is destroyed.” He paused, then added, “It’s the small battles that are most hard won and matter the most. You’re not fighting for your brother, you’re fighting to stop those who imprisoned your brother. To rebalance right and justice and goodness.”

He rose and looked down at me. “The small battles are just as important as the large ones. Because if the Vavereks of the world are allowed to continue next time it won’t be one shifter kidnapped or one family murdered. Then it’ll be a small community, then a larger one and on it goes.”

I listened to his steps receding as I mulled over his words. My dad told me once that every choice has a consequence. I’d made my choice. Could I live with the consequences?

Guess I’d find out tomorrow.