Lady Superior (27 page)

Kristen turned the key in the ignition and switched the radio from FM to AM, spinning the tuner back and forth to find something of value. She checked the time—not yet five in the morning. Summer sunrise always threw her off. The sun wasn't supposed to be up that early. The news broadcasts wouldn't be on for at least a little while. She left the tuner on a Spanish talk radio station and pulled out of her apartment's parking lot. She listened intently as she drove, curious how much Spanish she could remember from school Bernice's family. Not much, it turned out. She fiddled with the tuner until she found the news.

“...workers might be temporarily unemployed.” An unaccented, Midwestern newscaster sounded off through the speakers. Kristen recognized it as the voice of one of the local television newscasters and snorted; she'd never listened to news radio before. She’d assumed they ran their own show rather than broadcasting audio-only television. Still, she listened as Jane bade her. “Emergency repairs will begin on the Seidel Tower which stands on the corner of Fourth and McKinley. In the meantime, all staff and personnel have been evacuated until further notice. A source close to the situation describes potentially catastrophic damage and the water table might be to blame.”

The audio cut to a prerecorded interview. A woman, likely an old woman, described the same sinking building scenario Jane had inside Temple.

Was that Jane's plan? Offer up Seidel Tower as bait and hope Delphi chomped the hook in pursuit of an easy, unstable target? Kristen drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Unless Jane knew more than she let on, there were a lot of assumptions in play. Delphi might not go after a relatively minor target; Seidel Tower was nearly a hundred years old and held historical significance, but it wasn't important in any other way.

The radio cut back to the newscaster. “In other news, the hunt continues for the woman known as Maiden Milwaukee.”

Kristen nearly jerked the wheel in surprise and was thankful for a mostly empty road.

“Maiden Milwaukee was spotted at a Gas'n'Go on Milwaukee's south side. While experts are calling her transhuman, the masses are calling her superhuman. An eyewitness description portrays someone just as human as the rest of us.”

Experts? What experts?

The audio feed cut to a young man's voice—not the clerk. “Honestly, I wasn't sure if calling the cops was the right thing. I mean, she used the bathroom, bought a soda and some snacks, and she was gone. She didn't do anything weird, I just know they've been looking for her. If she's out there, I'm sorry if I caused any trouble.”

I forgive you. Asshole.

Back to the newscaster. “Security footage from inside the Gas'n'Go reflect eyewitness statements. However, police are seeking more information—particularly a license plate number for her vehicle. Witnesses describe it as a black sedan, but the security footage of the Gas'n'Go exterior was destroyed in what the franchise owner, Sudakar Singh, describes as a failure of aged technology.”

Audio cut to a man's aged, Indian accent. “The company says we use the tapes, so we use the tapes. We don't have digital. There is no backup. We tried to take the tape from the machine, the machine destroyed the tape. Destroyed. Nothing we can do. I am not concerned. Using the restroom in America, not a crime. If the police want my help, I will help, but if Maiden comes to my store again, I’ll pay for her soda.”

Back to the newscaster—though Kristen couldn’t see him, a change in his voice made her picture him turning to the side. “I don’t want to start any rumors, but I do have to wonder whether that missing footage might be a result of user error.”

A woman’s laughter followed. “That wouldn’t surprise me. The Maiden has become Milwaukee’s sweetheart practically overnight.”

Kristen cringed and wished she could’ve seen the Gas’n’Go footage. Where was the camera? Overhead? Did they get her face? Whichever it was, it no doubt gave the city the clearest picture of her yet.

The newscasters kicked the show over to sports. She turned it off and drove in silence. When she arrived at the Temple building, the lobby receptionist recognized her—someone
in the know
this time. The young woman offered a warm smile. “Good morning, Ms. Anderson.”

Kristen stopped at the woman’s voice and stood awkwardly; she’d been taken by surprise. The lights in the building were still low with no indication it was yet open for the day. She hadn’t expected a receptionist at all. Some security guards, maybe, but not a receptionist. “Oh, hey. You’re here early.”

“That makes two of us. Do you have your ID card with you?”

“ID card?”

The receptionist tucked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “Yes, Ms. Miller should have given you an identification card when you were hired. I need to see it before I can send you up.”

Kristen tried to recall if Jane had given her such a thing. She pulled the wallet from her purse and sifted through cards: driver’s license, club cards, credit card… nothing from Temple. Kristen looked at the receptionist, puzzled. “I don’t have anything like that.”

“Do you have your badge? Nametag?”

“I didn’t think I’d need it. Jane told me I needed to come down here, though. So…”

“One moment, please.”

The receptionist picked up a phone and dialed three digits. She waited while it rang, her eyes never looking away from Kristen, not even for a moment. Kristen suddenly understood the precaution: they were dealing with shapeshifters. There weren’t many ways for the receptionist to verify she was who she was. Finally, someone must have answered on the other end. “Hello, yes. I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Miller, but Kristen Anderson is at the front desk. No, I didn’t send her up. She doesn’t have any form of identification. No, ma’am. She says you never gave her an ID. Yes, that’s correct. Would you like to come down and speak to her? Oh, okay. Yes, sure.” The receptionist took the receiver away from her mouth and covered it with one hand. “Miss Anderson?”

“Yeah?”

“Miss Miller would like to know what the two of you ordered at Kopp’s.”

Kristen couldn’t immediately recall. She began to shrug, but stopped herself—that wouldn’t help. With her luck, failing to answer would result in some sort of Temple strike team bursting out of the walls. “I ordered a sundae. Jane got a shake?”

“You’ll need to be more specific, please.”

“I got a, uh… bean… bienste... something German.” She paused, still thinking. “Jane ordered a Blue Moon shake.”

The receptionist relayed the message and, presumably, listened to Jane’s reply. After a few parting words, she hung up the phone. “I’ll send you right up, Miss Anderson. Miss Miller wanted me to tell you it’s pronounced
Bienenstich kuchen
. It means
bee sting cake
, though
kuchen
is left off of the authentic dessert, much like
tiramisu
doesn’t need
torta
on the end. It’s already known as a cake.”

Kristen cocked her eyebrow. “Jane told you to tell me that?”

“Miss Miller likes to be thorough in her explanations. The elevator should be waiting for you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Kristen rode the open elevator to floor thirteen. When the doors opened, she punched the button to close them, then repeated the request for floor thirteen. They closed, and when they parted again, Kristen was struck blind by violet. She shielded her eyes and let them adjust; though the lights were low in the rest of the building, the violet sea beyond the windows was as bright as ever. Once the blindness passed, she stepped out of the elevator. Jane was there in an instant, thrusting a plastic card at her. “Sorry, I completely forgot about this. I was supposed to drop it off with your branch manager when you got hired on.”

Kristen slipped the card into her purse. Jane beckoned her to follow, and she obliged. They walked to the back of the floor and into a boardroom adjacent to Michael’s office. Kristen grew wary when she saw that two others had already arrived—people she'd never seen before. How many people knew who she was without her consent? One of the two was a woman of medium height, athletic build, her white skin tanned dark by long hours in the sun, her black hair in thick dreadlocks. The other was a dark-skinned man as tall as Todd but thicker with muscle, his hair buzzed short. At once, they both looked Kristen up and down, sizing her up as if assessing a threat. Kristen couldn't help but feel intimidated, even knowing what she was. Jane jumped back in to break the ice. “Kris, this is Gabby and Cole. The night we went into that warehouse, I had two people on overwatch, remember? This is them. They're your guardian angels. Get acquainted; I have to go downstairs and wait for Todd. I know for a fact I didn't give him any ID.”

Before Kristen could protest, Jane swept out of the boardroom, leaving them alone. She blew out a breath. She pointed at the man. “Cole?” Then she pointed at the woman. “And Gabby?”

The man chuckled. His had a deep bass of a laugh, his voice no different. “Other way around. I'm Gabby. Gabriel.”

“I'm just Cole.” The woman said it too quickly, as if preemptively interrupting something. When she followed up on that, she spoke more slowly, her voice cool and throaty. “It isn't short for anything. So you're the bruiser, huh? Haven’t seen you up close before. Well, up close and conscious.”

“Are you two gifted, too?”

Cole motioned to a chair at the long table. “We're going to be here awhile. Pop a squat. We're gifted, yeah.”

Pop a squat? Seriously?

Kristen took a seat. “What can you do?”

“Put a bullet between a man's eyes from over two thousand meters.”

Gabby rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind her. She likes to sound tough. We’re just people. We’re good at what we do, but still just people.”

“What do you do, then? You’re what, Temple’s assassins?”

“I guess you’d call us mercenaries, but I don’t really like the implications.” Gabby shrugged. “Michael calls us security contractors. When Temple has a problem they can’t fix themselves, they call us up. Usually it’s because their other people are all tied up and Jane decided to go and step in something. I love that girl, but damn does she have bad timing.”

Kristen found herself assessing them, like they’d done to her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re what, the reserves? The backup? Last, desperate line of defense?”

Cole leaned forward, forearm flat against the table. “What do you think you are? You think Temple would throw you into all of this if they had anyone else? Jane had us watching
you
. That puts us above you on the food chain.”

“Hey, hey.” Gabby put his hands up in a gesture of separation. “Why you gotta be so aggressive? There’s no food chain here. Damn, it’s like you want people to hate you.”

Kristen glared. “If that’s what she wants, it works pretty well.”

Cole narrowed hateful eyes. Then, in an instant, the façade collapsed and she slumped back in her chair. A little smile appeared at the corner of her mouth, and she seemed completely relaxed. “Yeah, alright. Look, Jane’s pulled us into some real shit before. Sometimes it helps to keep a newbie spooked.”

Gabby shook his head. “Not when a bullet from two thousand meters won’t put ‘em down. Not when they can set us on fire with their mind. Not when they can cast a death curse from the other side of the planet. It’s never been a good idea to try spooking the newbies. Never.”

Kristen slid back in her chair. It was too damn early to deal with these two. “So you have experience with people who can light you on fire with their mind?”

Cole jabbed a thumb at Gabby. “His sister’s one of them.”

“Seriously?”

Gabby nodded. “Seriously.”

“She’s with Temple, then?”

“Nope. They made the offer, but she didn’t want it. When you sign up, you’re making a pledge to the cause. If Temple finds a fire and ask you to put it out, you do it. It doesn’t matter what else you have going on. She didn’t want that.”

“But you signed up instead?”

“Someone needs to watch out for her. Might as well be me.”

Cole tilted her head toward him. “And he needs someone to pull his ass out of the fire. Might as well be me.”

Kristen nodded. She had to make small talk just long enough for Todd to show up. Maybe then she’d feel less out of place. “It must be nice to have a partner. I’ve been doing this solo, more or less.”

“Nah.” Gabby shook his head. “Not really. I mean, yeah, I guess you’ve been solo most of the time. But from what I hear, you’ve got people watching your back. We had yours at the warehouse. Jane’s watching out for you, too. And from what she’s said, sounds like Todd is more loyal to you than the Templars. You have people.”

“Todd’s loyal to his family. I helped them. That’s all.”

He shrugged. “Good way to make friends. Protect what they love. They’ll protect you. Every friend I have in this business, that’s the way it is.”

Cole nodded once. “He’s got that right. We’re not as deep into this stuff as people like Jane, but we see things. Hell, I think we see the worst of it, given we’re the shit-just-got-real mercenaries. There aren’t many people who become a part of this world by choice. Gabby and I, we’re exceptions. Most people stumble into the shallows, then get pulled into the deep end. Everyone holds on to something precious. Find out what it is, take it seriously, and you have allies for life.”

Kristen wrinkled her forehead. “Make friends by indebting them to you?”

Gabby looked sideways at Cole. “She thinks the worst of us at every turn. I’m blaming you for this.”

Cole rolled her eyes. “Kristen, it’s called empathy. Have some basic empathy for other people stuck in this, and you’ll make friends.”

Jane strode back into the boardroom. “I didn’t hear all of that, but I wouldn’t suggest taking Cole’s advice on making friends.”

Cole looked up with an expression of stone. Hate flickered in her eyes again. Kristen saw Jane flinch and was in awe. This woman made Jane flinch? Jane was afraid of
her
? She seemed like a try-hard blow-hard, but if Jane was afraid, maybe Cole’s boast had merit. There wasn’t time to dwell on it, though. Todd marched in behind Jane, his own brand of fury apparent. “Why didn’t you tell me about the change of plan? You do know the police are watching my house, right? I had to find a way to sneak out of my own house. How do you think that’ll look when I go back home?”