Justice Keepers Saga--Books 1-3, page 60
Missy stared into her suitcase as though she thought her scowl might set the clothes on fire. “Sure. Whatever you say, Dad.” She whirled around and stalked out of the room, marching down the narrow hallway that led to the stairs.
As he turned to watch her go, Harry found Della standing in that hallway. His ex-wife wore a pair of designer jeans and one of those frilly hippie shirts, her golden hair done up in a ponytail.
It would have been nice if she had said something to put an end to their daughter's sulking, but – as always – the job of discipline fell squarely on his shoulders. Sometimes he thought Della only wanted the kids when it was easy. Claire had said something about her mother discussing report cards and grounding her when she had a D. He'd insisted on seeing that report card himself, of course. At least Della was trying. “What do you think that was about?” he asked.
Della stood in the hallway with arms crossed, tossing her head back to roll her eyes at the ceiling. “That little tantrum?” she said. “Come on, Harry, put two and two together. She's upset because she won't get to see Aaron.”
“Who the hell's Aaron?”
His ex gave him a look that called him an idiot. “Her boyfriend,” she said in tones that implied the answer should have been obvious. “Jesus… When exactly did you stop paying attention?”
Harry sat down on the edge of the bed.
Hunching over, he planted his nose in the palm of his hand. “My daughter's got a boyfriend,” he whispered in a breathy rasp. “How the hell do you know about this when I don't know about this?”
“She told me.”
Harry turned his face up to the ceiling, blinking. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he said, getting to his feet. “Melissa, get up here and finish packing! Your grandfather is expecting you!”
Della shook her head in exasperation. “You're not gonna do the protective father thing, are you?” she asked, stepping into the room. “She's old enough to date if she wants to.”
“I agree that she's old enough to date,” he said. “And I would have no problem with it if she actually talked to me.”
Christ, when exactly had his daughter stopped trusting him? They had had some problems a few years back when she learned of the existence of the Leyrians – Missy had not been pleased to learn that he had been lying to her – but that was all over and done. If she was hiding the details of her personal life…
“Dad!” Claire squealed from the kitchen. “Come down here!”
What now?
He started down the narrow hallway with Della at his back, her presence sending a shiver down his spine. Harry was no Keeper – he couldn't see what was going on behind him – but when you lived with a woman who brought to mind images of the three-headed hydra, you learned to sense when she was near.
At the end of the hallway, stairs led down to the dining room a where a wooden table was covered with stuffed animals that Claire had been unable to cram into her suitcase. It was going to be quite the cleanup.
He turned a corner into the kitchen where his youngest daughter sat at the table in denim overalls and a pink shirt. Her dark hair was done up in a ponytail. “Dad,” she said. “This thing says someone's calling you.”
She lifted the tablet that she had been reading.
The screen displayed Jena's picture with the words incoming call blinking in large red letters. He took the device and swiped his finger across its surface to answer. He just prayed she wasn't going to ask him on another date. Now was not the time.
The screen lit up with a close-up of Jena. She was sitting in the chair in her office with her back to the window. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You look like a rabbit that's been running from the hounds.”
Harry felt his mouth tighten. “The girls are leaving for Alberta today,” he replied in soft tones. He could all but see his ex-wife scowling. “We're trying to get them ready, and it's a bit of an ordeal.”
“Oh, well then I won't keep you, but I have news.”
“What's that?”
Jena smiled, bowing her head so that he could only see a mop of short auburn hair. “I had a little chat with the other directors,” she said. “So far, you've done a remarkable job of building bridges between my people and local law enforcement, and we'd like to make the position official.”
“You mean I'd work for you full time?”
“It's a great opportunity for you, Harry,” she said. “You've been playing the role of ambassador ever since Lenai got stuck here three years ago. The only difference is now you'll be paid for it.”
He'd have to think about that. If he was honest with himself, Harry had to admit that he had been feeling a little burnt out lately. A change of scenery might do him some good, and this job wouldn't be nearly as dangerous. “Let me get back to you,” he said. “I can call you tonight.”
She nodded and the call window vanished, and was replaced with a home screen full of colourful icons. Passing the tablet back to Claire, he tried to ignore his daughter's curious expression.
He turned.
Della stood in the dining room with one hand on the table, her eyes glued to the floor. “Well, there's a new development,” she said. “How would you feel about working for the Justice Keepers?”
Lifting his chin, Harry studied his ex. “You heard all that?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “How would you feel about it? You've always said it wasn't good for the girls to have a dad who was frequently in danger.”
Della backed away from him with arms crossed, shaking her head. “It's really not my call,” she answered. “But it's a big decision, and it would mean working directly with your girlfriend.”
“You have a girlfriend?”
Claire sat at the kitchen table with the tablet in her lap, one hand covering a pleased grin. “Dad has a girlfriend!” she squealed. “Hey, Missy, did you know that Dad has a new girlfriend?”
Before he could speak, his eldest came up the stairs from the family room and froze there with a hand on the railing. When he looked at her, Harry realized for the first time that he was mad at her for doing something that he himself was guilty of.
It wasn't as though he'd come out and said that he was seeing someone. Of course, one date did not constitute a serious relationship, but it occurred to him that Missy might have avoided talking about Aaron because she simply didn't know how to bring up the subject. There were differences, of course. As a parent, Harry needed to know what was going on in his daughter's life. The same was not true in reverse. Still, he recalled what it was like talking to his parents about his girlfriends.
Missy looked up at him with a tight frown, her dark eyebrows slowly climbing. “A girlfriend,” she muttered. “Well, Dad, I guess it's good that you're finally getting back out there again.”
Harry wrinkled his nose, his cheeks aflame. “It's not what you think it is,” he said, shaking his head. “Director Morane and I just went to dinner once. I wouldn't call her my girlfriend yet.”
“Yet?”
Damn it.
Turn about was fair play, he supposed, but that didn't make him any more inclined to discuss his personal life with his daughter. Then again, he was asking her to do that. “I tell you what, Missy,” he offered. “I will give you all the relevant updates on Jena if you agree to sit down and talk to me about Aaron.”
Missy went beet red, turning her head so that he saw her in profile. “All right,” she said with a nod. “When we get back from Grandpa's. But I reserve the right to call a time out if things get too intense.”
“Deal.”
She pushed past him, making her way up the stairs, then paused when she was in the dining room. “And Dad,” she said after a moment. “I'm getting older now. I'd like to go by Melissa.”
“Okay.”
Getting the girls packed took up most of his afternoon. On the bright side, it kept him busy enough to avoid thinking about the sad reality that he would not see either of them for an undetermined amount of time. By the time they were ready to go, however, his heart began to sink.
Claire hugged him tight, leaning her head against his stomach while she said her good-byes. After that, he found Melissa standing in the front door with a small smile, nodding to him as she stepped outside.
When they were gone, he turned.
Della stood in the kitchen with arms folded, watching him with a hard expression. “Do you want my advice?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Take the job, Harry. You can do better than that little office in that little precinct.”
She left without another word.
The house was oddly silent after that. Joint custody meant he had to get used to not having anyone around, but with the kids spending most of their time here, he could count on seeing them within a few days at most. Now, that was no longer the case.
He mused on the offer, but in his heart he already knew what his answer would be. The most important thing he could do was protect his city from the threats presented by alien technology. It was official then.
He would be working with the Justice Keepers.
“Next.”
The hologram that streamed from the tiny metal disk on his multi-tool winked out to be replaced with yet another still image. This one featured Jack Hunter in formal attire, standing on the steps of the Parliament Building. Next to him, a woman in a black skirt and white blouse stood with arms folded, her hair done up in a steely-gray bun. Three years ago, she had been prime minister of this miserable little country.
Frowning to himself, Leo narrowed his eyes. “Well, this is of no use,” he muttered, sitting back against the couch cushions. “He's not likely to cry buckets of tears over the death of his former head of government. Next!”
The metal disk sat on the coffee table in this house's living room. At his command, the hologram vanished to be replaced with an image of Hunter standing on some busy sidewalk with his arm around some pretty young thing. The girl had reddish-blonde hair that she wore in a ponytail and an infectious smile.
Leo paused for a moment to consider her.
He knew, without having to check the caption, that this was Leana Lenai, the young Keeper who had come to this world in search of a missing symbiont. There was genuine affection between Hunter and this woman; it was obvious by the way they clung to each other. Killing her would almost certainly drive the man over the edge. Sadly, Leana Lenai was beyond his reach. “Next.”
The image shifted again, this time displaying Hunter, Lenai and two others standing in front of a podium in what appeared to be one of this city's many banquet halls. Their cheerful expressions made him want to vomit.
On Hunter's right, a tall woman in a black pantsuit stared into the camera with a big fake smile on her face. This one was all business. Everything from her posture to the way she wore her long dark hair pulled back in a clip told him that she was the kind of woman who put ambition ahead of everything else. He could respect that in a woman – so long as she never became ambitious enough to challenge him – but he doubted that Hunter felt any real admiration for her.
The fourth member of their little group got his attention.
A tall man with dark skin and black hair that he kept neatly combed, he stood next to Lenai with his hands at his sides, displaying the proud posture of a victorious soldier. No doubt that was how he felt. Exposing Pennfield must have seemed like quite a victory to those fools. Would killing this man, this…Detective Harry Carlson break Jack Hunter's spirit? Well, it was certainly worth a shot.
Leo stroked his chin as he studied the image. “Yes,” he said, nodding to himself. “You'll do just fine.”
“Who will?”
The sound of a woman's voice made him jump to his feet and reach for the pistol that was not actually clipped to his belt. Thoughts raced through his mind in a frenzy. Who was this woman? How had she entered without his knowledge.
She stood in front of his kitchen table in a black dress and a cloak of all things, its purple hood pulled up to hide her face. “You were given specific instructions, Leo,” she said. “Our masters do not tolerate disobedience.”
Leo felt his mouth twist in disgust. He lowered his eyes and heaved out one very long breath. “I told the last lacky,” he began. “No one tells me what to do. Not you and not Pennfield.”
The woman crossed her arms and studied him from the depths of that hood. “You were told not to target Jack Hunter,” she hissed. “He is irrelevant. You were told not to draw attention to yourself with petty vendettas!”
“Do I look like I care?”
“Impudent child.”
Hissing air through clenched teeth, Leo squeezed his eyes shut. “I will not be ordered around by a woman!” he snapped. “You'll understand your place when I'm fucking you senseless.”
Leo strode toward her.
She just stood there with her arms crossed, perfectly calm and collected. He had seen this kind of defiance before; it was the sort of thing that you had to correct early on in any relationship.
He threw a punch.
The woman leaned back, batting his hand aside with a casual flick of her wrist. She snapped herself upright to deliver a quick jab to his nose. Bright silvery flecks floated in his field of vision.
A pair of hands seized his shoulders, forcing him to double over. Her knee slammed into his chest, and the surge of pain that followed was almost enough to make him black out. Something struck him between the shoulder blades.
Leo fell hard onto his stomach.
Through the haze, he was barely aware of the woman pacing a circle around him. “Such delightful arrogance,” she purred in a voice as smooth as the finest silk. “I think I will enjoy teaching you some respect.”
She kicked him in the short ribs.
The blow landed with enough force to lift him right off the floor. He went tumbling through the air like a log rolling down a hill, crashing into the patio door and cracking the glass. He tried to get up, but the woman was already standing over him.
A swift kick to the face knocked him senseless once again, and the world lurched as he tried to regain his balance. Amps was racing through his system, healing wounds that should have left him unconscious, but the drug was by no means perfect. “Which of us is stronger, Leo?”
He crawled past her, getting to his feet with some effort. When his vision cleared, he found himself racing toward the kitchen table. The gun that he should have kept on his person was sitting on its surface.
Leo grabbed it.
He spun around to find her standing in front of the patio door, calm and casual with her hands folded over her stomach. “My, my, my,” she murmured. “Are you really going to resort to that?”
He took aim.
The air rippled in front of her just before he fired, light twisting until she was only a swirl of colour. His slug struck the pulsing barrier and slowed just long enough for him to watch it veer off to the right.
His next bullet did no better; this one looped around in a tight U-turn, coming back toward him and grazing his arm. Pain made him drop the pistol and sink to his knees. “I will not bow to you!”
When the barrier vanished, he saw the woman standing over him with arms folded, shaking her head in dismay. “I would have preferred to keep you alive,” she said. “But it is clear to me that you've outlived your usefulness.”
WAIT.
The voice sang in the back of Leo's head, and by the way she paused and looked up at the ceiling, he could tell the woman heard it too. “You would have me spare him?” she asked. “His disobedience threatens our plans.”
His disobedience has caused an even greater rift between Earth and Leyria.
Leo shut his eyes, hot tears spilling over his cheeks and leaving sticky moisture in their wake. “You can't frighten me,” he whispered. “I will kill Jack Hunter regardless of whether or not you approve.”
The woman turned away from him, marching back to the cracked patio door. “He's volatile,” she insisted. “A weapon like this is only useful if you can control it. His anger makes him shortsighted.”
A pause.
Clenching his teeth, Leo felt his face heat up. He pressed a fist to his forehead and brushed damp hair aside. “I've served you well!” he countered. “This city is tearing itself apart because of me.”
The voice was considering. Leo could feel it, could sense it idly pondering his fate through whatever contact it had made with his mind. To offend a God was suicide, and yet he simply could not bring himself to supplicate. His life was his own, and if his God chose to destroy him for that, so be it.
He has performed his function within established parameters, the voice whispered. Allow him to kill the Justice Keeper. This goal is not incompatible with our own.
The woman turned, glancing over her shoulder. Though her face was hidden by the hood, he had no doubt that she was scowling. “And how will you kill Jack Hunter?” she asked. “Tell me your plan.”
“The Detective.”
“What of him?”
Leo slapped a hand over his face, rubbing the tip of his nose with his palm. “Jack Hunter has befriended him,” he said. “Killing someone close to him will certainly get the man's attention.”
With a sigh, the woman turned her face up to the ceiling, speaking to her master. “Do you approve of this?” There was a long pause before the voice finally spoke again.
Proceed.
24
Jack woke up to the glorious sensation of no pain in his hands. Well…minimal pain. Between the dermal regenerative gloves and Summer's diligent efforts to heal his body, he'd almost completely recovered. The message from Jena in his inbox was less pleasant.
It was only a matter of time before she got her hands on the article that Selena had written. He'd been expecting this call for several days now. The message had been short and simple: “I need to see you in my office.” Those were always the worst kind. When a boss decided to praise you, he usually said something specific. But “I need to see you in my office” was usually bad news.
