 
## The Watchtower

Written by Darke Conteur

© 2011 Dark Conteur Collection of Works

Smashwords Edition

2nd Edition

For more information on the author,

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www.wordpress/darkeconteur.com

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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

I would like to thank Craig Saunders and Jen W. Merritt,

for helping me to create the story

I knew I could write.

The background is by NebelDarkened on Deviantart

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The brushes are by ObsidianDawn.com

Special Thanks

To Calista Taylor for the cover design.

## Chapter One

Napoléon Bonaparte once said there were two motivations to move men; inspiration and fear, but for Martin Cunningham, starvation was a damn good means of motivation too.

Martin stared out the window of the number six bus as it drove toward the downtown core. The smell of grease floated over to him from across the aisle, as an attractive, middle-aged woman sat nibbling on a box of ketchup-coated French-fries. His stomach growled. Broke, hungry, and out of work, he had to find a job soon or he could add homeless to the list. As much as he loved his parents, he didn't like the idea of moving back home, and the idea of having another room-mate left a bad taste in his mouth.

He fiddled with his fingers, nervously picking at his cuticles. He'd sent out resumes to every business in the city, and not one nibble. Only one didn't reject his call back, and at his mother's urging, he called them.

He could still hear the disembodied female voice on the other end. She sounded bored, and Martin figured he didn't have a chance in hell of getting an interview.

"Terin Global. How may he help you?"

He pictured a mature, grey-haired woman sitting behind a huge oak desk, glasses part way down the bridge of her nose, hair pulled back into a tight bun.

"Yes, I'm calling about a possible job interview." He tried to sound as professional as possible, hoping his young age wouldn't reflect in his voice. "I sent in my resume several weeks ago, and was wondering if your company had received it?"

"Name?"

"Martin. Martin Cunningham."

Then came that long, awkward silence. Martin had visions of her glancing over his pathetic one page resume and filing it in the nearest trash can.

"Yup." Her voice was more upbeat than he expected. "You'll do. Come in tomorrow morning around eleven. When you enter the lobby, take the freight elevator up to the twenty-ninth floor."

"The freight elevator?"

"Yeah, you'll find it at the end of the corridor to the right of the reception desk. Beside the custodial room."

Martin shook his head. That was the weirdest phone conversation he'd ever had.

The bus slowed down as it pulled off the road and into the sheltered stop. The morning sun was warm as he stepped out and walked toward the stone fountain in the center of the plaza. The three Terin Global skyscrapers dominated the landscape. The buildings were huge, looming over the plaza like three concrete sentinels. Martin glanced at his watch. He was fifteen minutes early. He wanted to make a good impression, but arriving too early would make him look desperate. Just because he was, it didn't mean they had to know it.

He sat on one of the stone benches that faced the buildings. Martin knew Terin Global by reputation: an international mega-corporation rumoured to have a clientele list of some of the more unscrupulous leaders of the world. Anarchists and megalomaniacs who, after succeeding in controlling their own small country, decided they wanted a bigger chunk of the world.

He stood and walked over to the middle building, checking his appearance in the reflective glass. He didn't look that young for twenty-three. Maybe a bit too scrawny through the face and torso, and the cheap haircut didn't look so bad now that his light brown hair had grown out a bit, but the real question was, did he look like someone who worked at a global corporation?

Have to look the part if you want the job! He exhaled and headed to the revolving doors. Time to find out.

The lobby of the main building wasn't typical in its design. A circular room with low ceilings, Martin was in awe of the sleekness with its black marble walls, stainless steel trim, and huge smoky grey windows. It felt so regal. Two elevators behind the reception desk were enclosed in a large glass cylindrical tube. Martin watched the elevator for a moment, envisioning himself riding in one as an employee.

"Can I help you?" asked the female receptionist. She seemed nice, looked a little old fashioned with her choice of clothing, and didn't seem at all interested in dealing with the six or so delivery guys standing off to her left.

"I'm here for a job interview," he said, trying to sound pleasant. "I'm supposed to take the freight elevator up to--"

She pointed a bony finger to her right. Martin followed her finger and noticed a small corridor off the lobby, flanked by two large kettle palms.

He turned back to the desk and smiled. "Thanks!"

"Hey!" One of the delivery guys stepped out from the line-up and walked toward him. "If you're going up there, would you mind taking this with you?" He held out a package the size of a bread maker, wrapped in brown paper and string. "I hate going up there."

Martin took the package from him. "Why?"

The delivery guy walked away, chuckling. "You'll find out."

Martin frowned as the delivery guy walked through the revolving doors and out into the plaza.

A voice bellowed from the reception desk. "They're waiting for you!"

Martin looked at the receptionist, then down at the parcel. "But what about this?"

"Well you might as well take it up with you."

A loud chorus of angry shouts erupted from the line of delivery men as Martin shook his head and headed toward the side corridor. He barely heard the receptionist's voice, but whatever she said worked, because they were quiet in a matter of moments. He pushed the button and stood there waiting for the steel doors to open, when the thought struck him: this corridor is too narrow for any type of freight to be hauled through. He turned to the right, but didn't see any other entrance apart from a door marked 'CUSTODIAL'. The corridor ended a few meters from the elevator, so where did the freight come in?

He stepped into the elevator and went to push the button for the twenty-ninth floor, but only two buttons were on the panel; one pointing up, the other down. Strange, and the elevator wasn't big enough to carry anything more than passengers. It was a quick ride up, and as the doors opened, the strong scent of incense struck him. It floated out of several holes within a wooden archway built around the doorframe. Martin was beginning to see why the delivery guy didn't want to come up.

He stepped out of the elevator, package tucked uncomfortably under his arm, and into a Goth's dream. Old grey flagstones covered the floor and walls, with medieval looking wall sconces holding drippy candles mounted to the wall. A wrought-iron barrier blocked the corridor several feet in front of the elevator. Its cemetery-like gateway pad locked closed.

Martin stood there, dumbfounded, and wondered if being here was the right idea. He didn't need this job that bad, did he? Yet something pushed him on, edged him to give in to his growing curiosity. Besides, there was still the package to deliver.

He walked up to the gate and squinted, trying to get a better view of what lay beyond. There was a huge wooden desk, nothing on it, and two wooden doors embedded in the wall behind. More of the drippy candles lined the walls, but he didn't see or hear anyone.

"Hello," he called out, shifting the package around to his other hip. "The eleven o'clock appointment is here."

Dead silence.

"And I have a package."

A low and drawn-out creak came from the door on the right as a young blonde woman emerged. Even in this dim light, Martin could tell she wasn't impressed.

"Sorry," she said, as the door creaked to a close behind her. "I should have been out here waiting for you, but I hate this hall. Gives me the creeps."

He recognized her voice immediately as the woman he'd spoken to on the phone the other day. Perfect hair and make-up, fashionable clothing, pink-lace gloves to match her stiletto shoes. She was definitely at odds with her surroundings.

Martin smiled as she unlocked the pad lock with a huge skeleton key. "I know how you feel." He handed the package to her. "As do some of your delivery guys."

She gave him a strange look and held the package away from her body.

"You must be Martin Cunningham," she said, and shoved the package back at him so fast he almost dropped it. "I'm Barb Dole. Jezryall's personal secretary. I screen all outside applicants who wish to work at Terin Global."

Martin frowned. "Jezryall? That's a unique name."

"She's a unique person, and you'll love working for her." She shot a disgusted look at the package. "You can give _that_ to her yourself. Follow me, please."

Martin frowned. "How do you know I'll like working for her, when I don't even know?

Barb walked up to the wooden door. "We all do. Now hurry up, she probably has a few things she wants you to do already."

Martin stopped at the front of the desk and tucked the package back under his arm. "Wait a minute. I thought this was just an interview."

Barb hesitated before opening the door. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you never said anything about me having the job when we spoke on the phone."

"Yes I did."

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did." Barb turned the huge brass knob on the door. "I said, 'you'll do', and then told you when to show up for your first day on the job."

Martin thought back to the conversation. "But how do you know I'm even right for the job?" he asked, walking toward the door. "How do you know I even want this job?"

She gave him a wicked smile. "I just know these things."

Martin shrugged and walked into the main office. The weirdness of the hall décor continued in there. A cathedral ceiling stretched several floors up with heavy wooden doors scattered around the main floor. There were doors positioned higher up, connected to one another by a wrought-iron walkway. More old sconces with drippy candles lined the walls, and a shiver ran up his spine. It looked as though it had been modeled after Frankenstein's castle, with one exception: a huge picture window sat directly opposite the door he entered, with a plush black leather chair turned to face the window.

"Jezryall, our new Public Liaison officer is here," Barb said, as she strolled over to an identical desk as the one out in the hall. There was a pile of fashion magazines fanned out, along with a scattering of manicure objects.

Martin slowly walked toward the chair. "Hi, uh, Miss Jezryall, um, is it?" he stuttered. "I think there's been some sort of misunderstanding. I haven't decided whether or not I'm going to take this job. I was under the impression this was only an interview."

"Were you a member of the debate team at university?" The voice was strong but seductive, with a hint of a Russian accent.

"Captain, actually."

"This means you were good at it?"

"Well, yes. You don't get to be the Captain unless you are."

The chair began to turn. Martin's heart beat faster. How the chair moved, he couldn't tell, but he knew it wasn't from the occupant.

"Good. What I need is someone to run interference for me," she said, "None of us here are any good with dealing with the public."

Jezryall was stunning. Long, black hair that hung down to her waist, but it was her eyes that struck him. He couldn't stop himself from staring into their smokey grey, almond shape. He felt as though he were being drawn toward her. She was saucy, seductive. He could see it in the way she moved as she left the chair; her hair falling about her waist as the low-cut, red dress with black lace hugged her well-endowed body. Oddly enough, she was barefoot.

"I'm sure there are others who--"

"No!" She walked toward him, keeping her focus on him. Martin was paralyzed, but not with fear. The way she looked at him made him feel like he was the only one in the world. "Barbara has informed me that you are the one we are looking for. And I trust her instincts completely."

"Why? You don't even know me. How can I be right for this job?"

"How are you wrong for it?"

The question left him speechless. What was he supposed to say? Apart from the fact this place gave him the creeps, Martin couldn't see any reason not to accept it, except for this underlying feeling...

"How about this," Jezryall said, taking a few steps closer to him. "You work for me for one week, and after that, if you do not want the job, you will be free to go. Two weeks' pay included, of course."

His eyebrows rose. "Two weeks?"

Jezryall nodded. "Consider it compensation for your time."

Martin took a second look around the room. It was creepy, but nothing he couldn't get used too. At least for a couple weeks. "I guess we have a deal."

"Good." Jezryall turned and walked to the other side of the room. "This will be your area." She pointed to a small desk under the wrought-iron walkway. "I apologize for the sparseness, but you are the first Public Liaison officer we have ever hired."

Martin followed, placing the package down on the desk. It wasn't as big as the others, but it was just a temp job anyway. "So what is it that your company does, Miss Jezryall?"

She laughed, deep and warm. "Just Jezryall, Mr. Cunningham."

Martin smiled in spite of himself. "Okay, Jezryall, so what is it that I'm going to P.R. for?"

Jezryall sauntered back over to her chair. "To the public, we are a private I.T. company with a clientele that spans the globe. In truth, we perform delicate and covert operations in some of the most dangerous territories in the world."

Martin tried to stifle a laugh at the melodrama. "What? Like military operations?"

Jezryall eased herself back into her chair. "We deal with more...unusual situations."

"A piece of advice, if you're some kind of mercenary company, you need lawyers, not a P.R. rep."

"I have enough lawyers. I need a Public Liaison officer." Her eyes locked on his again and his relaxed feeling was replaced with a sense of dread. "Because sometimes things do not always go as planned."

Trying to shake the feeling, Martin turned away. "Okay, good enough. Oh-" He spun around, extended the package toward Jezryall. "I was asked to bring this up to you."

Jezryall exchanged glances with Barb. "I do not get packages."

Martin looked down at the label. "But it's addressed to you."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know." He shook it a little. "It's light, so it can't be anything too big."

Jezryall took a few steps back. "Barbara, would you be so kind as to call Aslin here?" She turned back to Martin. "Please, Mr. Cunningham." The seductive tone of her voice sent shivers up his spine. "Put the package down on the floor. In the centre of the circle."

Martin picked up the package as Barb fiddled with her cell phone. It was an odd request, but hey, two weeks' worth of pay.

In the middle of the floor he found an intricate circle design surrounded by an outer band of strange markings. The inner design looked familiar; like something from a headstone, while the outer resembled some ancient language. His eyes lit up when he realized a multitude of precious gems were embedded within the design. "Are those real rubies?"

"Of course."

With a loud groan, a door at the other end swung open and a tall man entered. He was older than Martin, with a few streaks of grey in his dark hair. A neatly trimmed beard and moustache hid any lines on his face, and his hair hung down to his waist in a ponytail. He wore black pants and boots, and tugged on a white tunic as he pulled it over his torso. He reminded Martin of the hippies he used to see wandering around on campus, and Martin turned his head, trying to hide a smirk.

"You wish to see me, Mistress," he said. His strong Scottish accent made it almost impossible to understand him. His gaze fell on Martin, and he gave a slight nod before looking back at Jezryall.

"Aslin, I wish to introduce our new Public Liaison officer, Martin Cunningham." She sauntered over to the circle on the floor. "Mr. Cunningham has brought us a package, and it is addressed to me. Personally."

The Scot's eyes grew wide. "How is that possible?"

"It's simple," Martin said. "She's the head of the company."

"But not on paper, Mr. Cunningham," Jezryall said, walking toward him. "No one on the outside world knows that I run this company. So how is it possible for a package to be delivered to me here?"

Martin frowned. That wasn't so simple.

He watched as Jezryall continued to walk around the circle, a long finger pressed up against her lips. It was obvious she wanted to know what was inside the package, so why all this drama?

"I don't like this, Mistress," Aslin said, watching her as she stepped around the rim of the circle. "We should burn the package in the hearth immediately."

"Do you not want to know what is inside?" she asked.

"Not if it's addressed to you."

There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "All the more reason to open it."

Martin shook his head. Arguing over whether or not to open a silly package. This was going to be a long two weeks.

"Look," Martin said. "If you're so concerned about what it is, maybe we can figure out what's inside without opening it."

The Scot raised his eyebrows. "Agreed. Let Barbara touch it. If she says it's all right, then it can be opened."

Jezryall glanced over at her receptionist. "Do you feel up to it?"

"Doesn't sound like I have much of a choice," Barb mumbled, and got up from her desk.

The metal of her stiletto heels clicked against the flagstones as she took off her gloves and walked to the centre of the circle. "If I get a seriously bad vibe off this, you're going to owe me big time."

Martin frowned as the young woman picked up the box and closed her eyes. "What is she doing?"

Jezryall smiled and strolled over to his side. "Barbara has a unique talent. She is able to receive information from objects with just a touch." She looked at him with her dark eyes. He felt like putty in her hands. "You will find we all have unique talents here, Mr. Cunningham."

"Receive information?" he said. "What is she? A psychic?"

Jezryall smiled before walking over to her receptionist. "If you wish to call her that, then yes."

Martin chuckled. "You're joking, right? You don't really believe all that crap, do you?"

A grimace washed over Barb's face and she placed the box back on the floor and quickly ran behind her desk.

Aslin looked uneasily at Jezryall. "See. We do not open!"

Jezryall didn't seem to be listening; Barb's reaction only made her face light up more.

"But what is inside?" Jezryall asked. "What is this thing someone has sent me?"

Aslin turned to Barb. "What impressions did you get?"

At first, Martin didn't think Barb was going to answer. With her face scrunched up and the way her body trembled, it looked like she was doing all she could to forget. "Big, slimy, keep it out of the water. Ew! Ew! Ew!"

"Oh, well, that helps," Martin said, walking over to the package. "Couldn't get any more vague, could you?"

"Mistress, heed my words, this should not be opened." The Scot's menacing tone did nothing to dismay his new boss's curiosity. "Your station within this world is precarious at the best of times, with enemies at your door. It is obvious someone saw the naivety of the lad, and--"

"If someone is trying to hurt me, I would very much like to know who."

Martin picked up the package and walked back over to his desk. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it; standard Canada Post paper and a mailing label, but if Jezryall was telling the truth, and no one knew she was here, how did they know to send the package here?

"Does the mail room have a scanner?" Martin asked, after a few moments.

"A what?" Jezryall asked.

Martin turned back around, package in his hands. "You know, a scanner. Since nine-eleven a lot of corporate businesses have been putting scanners in their mail rooms looking for possible terrorists bombs."

Jezryall tilted her head to one side. "You think this could be a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb," Barb said.

Martin looked at her. "How do you know?"

Barb might have been beautiful, but the look she gave Martin was as ugly as he'd ever seen. "Because it's alive."

Jezryall backed up to her plush chair. The mischievous twinkle in her eyes was gone. "Perhaps we should do as Aslin suggests and burn the package."

"But I thought you wanted to know what was inside?" Martin asked.

Jezryall curled up in her chair, keeping her gaze on the floor. "Sometimes it is better to quit while one is ahead, Mr. Cunningham."

Martin placed it down on his desk. "You think there's something dangerous in there, don't you?"

She didn't answer as Aslin walked over and picked up the parcel.

"Look, if this is something dangerous, you can't destroy it. It's the only piece of evidence you have to track down whoever sent it. You'll need to hand it over to the authorities. They'll have the resources to find out who's behind this."

"No authorities," the Scot said, as he headed for the exit. "We will deal with this on our own."

"How, when you're about to burn the only piece of evidence that could lead you to whoever sent it?"

"Aslin, wait," Jezryall called out. "Mr. Cunningham is right. If we are to learn who is behind this, it must be preserved. We will keep it in the circle for now, until Mr. Cunningham can find one of these scanners."

From the way the Scot was looking at him, Martin guessed he wasn't too pleased with the fact their boss sided with the new guy. Martin kept his eyes on him as he walked back over to the circle and placed the package down in the center.

"As you wish, Mistress."

Martin tried to hide his smirk as he strutted over to Barb's desk. Maybe it was a good thing he would only be here for a couple weeks.

"Okay, thanks, Lizzy," Barb said, and hung up the phone. "Lizzy says the mail room in Building Two just bought some new equipment, and she thinks one piece might be a portable scanner." She played with the receiver in her hand. "I'll call over and see."

"Are you sure this scanner will be able to help us, Mr. Cunningham?"

"Well, I don't know all the technical details, but it should allow us to see inside." He crossed his arms. "And that might be enough to determine if it's dangerous or not."

Barb dropped the receiver on its hook. "Yup, Lucien says Building Two's mail room got overhauled last year." She looked pleased with herself. "And new equipment that includes a portable scanner."

"Great," Martin said. "Now we just have to go down to one with the package and scan it."

"Nay, Mr. Cunningham." There was something about the cheerful tone in the Scot's voice that Martin didn't care for. "You have to go over and bring one back here."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because we can't risk whatever is inside being exposed to the public, and--" A sly smirk inched across his face. "It was your idea, and as you're the new Public Liaison officer, it's your job to deal with the public. Remember?"

Martin cursed softly under his breath as he headed toward the door.

"Here," Barb said, holding out an expensive cell phone. "If you have any problems, call Lizzy at the front desk."

Martin took the phone and shoved it in the front pocket of his pants. At least he was getting out from the creepy room for a while.

## Chapter Two

The mailroom wasn't as busy as Martin thought it would be. Instead of hundreds of people sorting out mail that came down a conveyer belt, Terin Global's postal division consisted of a dozen or so people sitting at one large wooden desk in the center of the room, staring blankly at computer screens. Martin peeked at one of the monitors closest to him. The occupant was scanning over the obituaries from one of the major newspapers in the States. In particular, the death notice of some young reporter for a celebrity gossip show.

Martin was taken aback. "Wow, when did he die?"

"Just last night," a young, dark-haired man said, as he stretched in his chair. "Apparently some famous wrestler didn't like the idea that buddy here, was ogling his wife's breasts."

Another young man poked his head up from the monitor directly across. He didn't even look at Martin. "Beat him to death?"

"Yup. And in California, they have the death penalty."

"Are we going to get them?"

The dark-haired man tapped his keyboard and a map of North America appeared. "I don't know. Los Angeles is borderline. Could go to Singapore."

Martin frowned. "Get who?"

He waited, but no one replied. With an indignant snort, Martin walked away. The receptionist in the lobby was nicer.

He found the scanner sitting against the back wall underneath a huge motif. Martin took a second look around. The same intricate design on the floor of his new boss' office was on all four walls. He didn't know what was weirder; the fact it was there, or that not one person noticed a stranger wandering around the mail room with no security pass. That is, until he tried to move the scanner. Then Martin felt all eyes focus on him. He smiled and gave a small wave as he rolled the wheeled cart toward a set of swinging doors.

"Excuse me!" a male voice bellowed from the far end of the room. "But you can't take that out of here."

A balding, rather uptight looking middle-aged man, scurried out of an enclosed room and past the long wooden desk. His crew-cut hair and 50's style clothing looked as out of place here as Barb's outfit did upstairs.

Martin stopped and put his hands on his hips. "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Martin Cunningham, the new Public Liaison officer for the company and--"

"I don't care who you are. I'm in charge of this department and you don't just come down here and walk out with an expensive piece of equipment."

Martin looked him over. He was paler than normal, which made his dark-rimmed glasses stand out even more. "I know this isn't normal, but you don't understand Mr.--"

"Greevly. Thomas Greevly, and you're the one who doesn't understand, Mr. Cunningham. I've worked my ass off for the last three decades, trying to earn my place on the list, and I'm not going to have it jeopardized by something like this."

"But Lucian said--"

"Lucian?" Thomas's eyes narrowed into slits. "Did that pompous jackass send you down here?"

"Look, I just need it for a few minutes. The boss wants a package examined and--"

"So why don't they bring it down here?"

"They want to do this in private. Look, I really don't want to argue about this--"

The man crossed his arms. "Nope. I'm not authorizing it. If anything were to happen to this scanner, I'm the one who has to answer for it. I could lose my standing, and I'm NOT going back down there. Do you hear me?"

Martin backed off a little. This one was wrapped just a little too tight. "I understand that, and I promise nothing will happen—"

"No. If Upstairs wants a scanner so bad, why don't they go out and buy one? Leave my stuff alone."

Martin grabbed the cart and pulled it toward him. "Technically, this is their stuff. And you're not letting them use it."

Thomas stepped in front of the scanner. "I'm sorry. It stays here."

Martin let out a deep sigh and brought out his Blackberry. This would have to happen. He flipped open the menu on the phone and tapped the receptionist's number at the top of the list.

Her shrill voice sent a shiver through him. "Problems already, Mr. Cunningham?"

"Uh, yes, there's a man here who won't authorize--"

"Hand the phone to him, please."

Martin lowered the Blackberry from his ear and handed it to Thomas. He didn't know whether to be smug or sympathetic. "Someone wants to speak with you."

Thomas took the phone and put it up to his ear. Martin didn't think the man could get any paler, until Lizzy's voice rang out from the receiver.

"Yes, this is my department, and I can't have every Tom, Dick or Martin come waltzing in and take expensive...I know that, but it's my job..." Thomas turned away from the scanner. "No, no, no, Miss Borden, please, you have no idea how hard I've worked for this position and...No, no, I'm not arguing with you. I just don't feel comfortable...Yes, yes ma'am I do want that...No, I didn't know that...Yes, that does change the situation. Thank you."

Thomas closed the cell and handed it back. Martin thought the poor guy was going to throw up.

"Keep it for as long as you want," Thomas said. The indignant look was probably there to save face, but Martin saw a hint of fear as well. "We have extras."

He put the phone back in his pocket and grabbed a hold of the cart. "Thank you. I promise I'll take good care of it."

Thomas gave him a curt nod. "See that you do. And, Mr. Cunningham, please inform the Mistress that if she needs anything else, do not hesitate to call."

Martin smiled sympathetically. "I will."

Clouds were rolling in over the city as Martin pushed the scanner across the plaza and into the main building. He was positive he looked like an idiot, but if he did, no one said anything. As a matter of fact, not one person even took a second look. Either they didn't care, or sights like this were commonplace. If the second were true, this place was getting weirder. And what was the list?

He got the machine back up to the twenty-ninth floor, and as he rolled it across the gateway threshold, Barb appeared in front of him.

"It's about time," she said, pointing him in another direction. "What took you so long?"

Martin rolled the cart to a stop. "The department head, Mr. Greevly, was a little anal about me walking out with expensive equipment."

"Did you call Lizzy?"

He gave her a worried look. "Yes, ma'am. Don't know what she said, but she certainly changed his attitude real fast."

Barb didn't respond as she walked over to the second wooden door, and motioned Martin to follow.

"Hey, I've got a question."

Barb stopped at the doorway. "What is it?"

"Greevly was rambling about his place on a list," Martin said, as he pushed the cart past the desk. "What's he talking about?"

Barb reached for the large doorknob, and then paused. "That's confidential information, Mr. Cunningham."

"So you're not going to tell me?"

She turned slightly and gave him a wicked smile. "Maybe if you decide to stay."

His sense of curiosity deflated. There was just something about how she said it that made the hair on the back of his neck tingle. Enough that he decided not to press the matter further.

He motioned to the wooden door. "What's that room?

Barb twisted the knob and let the door swing open. "Daniel's laboratory."

"Laboratory?" he frowned. "You have scientist working here?"

A whimsical expression washed across her face. "Nope."

She wiggled her finger for him to follow and stepped into the room. Martin pushed the cart toward the door, but he was quickly getting frustrated at all this cryptic stuff. Sure, there were things he wouldn't be privileged to due to his temporary situation, but this was getting ridiculous.

If the office room hinted at remodeling by Frankenstein, the laboratory was right out of the castle. Even the stone fireplace was old. The room was small, almost suffocating with one wall nothing but computer monitors, each depicting a different image across the screen. Several towers were hooked into the digital wall, and hummed softly on a black metal desk. Experiment tables and lab paraphernalia took up most of the adjacent wall with paper folders and boxes strewn all around. The only other exit led to a closet size bathroom with a flickering light.

Jezryall sauntered up to him as he pushed the cart off to one side and shut the door. "Good, you are back. I trust you had no problems acquiring the equipment."

Martin put his hands on his hips. "A little, but that receptionist really knows how to handle management. Funny, she didn't strike me as a people person when I first met her."

Barb chuckled. "Yeah, Lizzy has a killer personality."

Martin felt a chill run up his spine.

Snorts and chuckles came from behind a stack of large boxes. "Killer personality. Good one, Barb!"

Jezryall walked over to a stack of boxes. "Come out Daniel and meet our new Liaison officer."

Daniel Livingstone's shadow stretched across the room as the rest of him stepped out from behind the boxes. He was shorter than Martin, with dark skin and long dreadlocks. He looked to be the same age as Barb and hid behind his long black hair. Martin stuck out his hand, but the young man slammed his fists into the front pockets of his worn jeans and moved back into the shadows. He didn't look at Martin the whole time.

Martin pulled his hand back. "Um...nice to meet you." He turned to Barb. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Barb said, and walked over to Daniel. "He's just shy around new people."

"Can you move the machine here, please, Mr. Livingstone?" Jezryall asked.

Daniel popped out from behind the boxes and walked to the cart. Martin saw Barb point in his direction, and from the mouthed words, was pretty sure she was pushing the poor guy into interacting more. With a scorn and a brief head shake, Daniel grabbed the cart and rolled it into the center of the room, then took the package from the Scot and placed it on top of the machine.

"Does anyone know how to work this thing?" Daniel asked, looking over the controls.

Martin stared at him. "You don't know how to work it?" He looked over at Barb. Certainly she knew how to use it? She shook her head.

Martin couldn't believe this. "Fine." He placed the parcel at the beginning of the conveyer belt as Daniel retreated into the shadows. Martin pushed the small green button next to the information screen, and with a jerk, the scanner began retracting the conveyer belt, moving the parcel slowly toward the flapped opening.

Jezryall took a few steps closer to the machine. The mischievous twinkle returned to her eyes. She turned to the Scot. "What do you think will be inside?"

Aslin crossed his arms. "With a package this size, it could be just about anything."

Daniel peered out from his hiding spot. They waited in silence as the package crawled closer to the opening. Martin's heart pounded, but he couldn't understand why. It was just as stupid package. His new employer and her Scottish friend were taking this way too seriously, and it was starting to get to him now.

The tension mounted as the box disappeared into the machine. Martin stepped up to the information panel and pressed the button that would start the scan. Lights moved back and forth from somewhere inside, and slowly the contents began to reveal themselves. Martin bent over the front of the scanner and turned on the small viewing screen on top. Slowly the rectangular shape of the box slid into view. Martin frowned.

"What is that?"

"What is what, Mr. Cunningham?" Jezryall asked.

The Scot nearly knocked Martin down trying to get a better look at the contents. "It is indeed alive," he said, his disapproving tone now mixed with concern. "This box contains an egg, with the creature still inside."

Martin looked over the Scot's shoulder. "What kind of creature would come from an egg that big?"

The Scot didn't reply. He just stared intensely at the monochrome screen.

Jezryall became worried. "Do you recognize the creature?" she asked.

He looked up at her. "I do, Mistress." He stepped away from the scanner. "You all should leave the room. For your own safety."

"What do you mean?" Martin asked, looking again at the screen. "It doesn't look dangerous. It's just a big worm."

Jezryall's eyes widened as Barb quickly went to her side and placed one arm around her. Jezryall glanced at Barb, then at the Scot. Martin didn't have to be a psychic to know his new boss was frightened.

"Not good, not good, not good," Daniel chanted from somewhere between all the piles of junk.

The box started to come out the other side. "What's not good?" Martin asked. "This is stupid. It's just an over-sized worm. Probably someone's idea of a joke."

The Scot picked up the box as it came out the other side. "The creature inside isn't a worm, Mr. Cunningham." He turned the box around, looking at it from different angles. "It is called a Brosnie. One of the most dangerous creatures in the world. Just one bite would release enough poison to wipe out the population of a small village."

Martin rolled his eyes. All this melodrama was starting to get to him.

"The package must be destroyed." The Scot faced Jezryall. "You cannot argue about it now."

Jezryall took a deep breath and crossed her arms. Her lips pressed together in a tight line as she kept her gaze on the package. It was easy to see she wanted to know more. To be honest, so did he.

Martin let out a deep sigh. "Again, if you destroy it, then how will you learn who sent it?"

The metal tips on Barb's stilettos clicked on the flagstones. "Brian in Security has some connections at the Police Station," she said. "He was bragging about it to me a few weeks ago." She rolled her eyes. "Thought it would impress me."

"Call him," Jezryall said. "Tell him that we require his services." She walked over to where Daniel was hiding. "Do you hear anything, Mr. Livingston? If this is a Brosnie, I must know who smuggled it into the city."

"No, Mistress," Daniel said, in a soft voice. "It's silent."

"There are many possibilities, Mistress," The Scot said. "This city is an open port. People from all over the world travel here. There is no telling who could have brought it in."

Daniel stepped out into the partial light. "The Gemini," he said, and then shrank back when everyone looked at him. "The Gemini might know who could smuggle this in."

Jezryall nodded. "I agree." She turned to Aslin. "We must speak with them immediately."

"Is that wise?" Barb asked. "I mean, for Jezryall to be out in the day?"

"I will use the Portal."

The Scot walked over to Jezryall. "I wish you wouldn't, Mistress. Those conduits are unsafe at the best of times."

"I can take care of myself," she said, and walked past him. "I must speak to the Gemini. They have abilities that could shorten our search."

Jezryall moved through the open doorway, although Martin was sure he closed the door behind him when he came in. He wasn't about to ask who or what the Gemini were. He was past asking questions he knew they weren't going to answer. "What about Barb's rent-a-cop friend?"

"It would serve us better if we employ his services once we have finished speaking with the Gemini," the Scot said. "The more we know, the more he can do his job properly."

"Good idea." Martin walked over to the scanner. "I'll take the egg out and Barb can take the package to her friend now."

"What are you doing?" the Scot's voice boomed through the small room. "You endanger us all by taking the creature out of the box!"

Martin placed the package on top of the scanner. "Relax, it's still inside the egg."

He pulled on the twine and ripped off the brown shipping paper. Packing tape sealed the top, but a quick slice with his apartment key cut an even line down the center. He opened the top flaps and looked inside. A cream-coloured sheet of paper with a strange black marking lay on top. He picked it up and placed it down on the scanner, and then reached both hands into the box.

"Careful," Barb said.

"It's pretty big," Martin said, lifting the egg gently out from the packing material. He turned to them, keeping a tight hold on the egg. "Feels pretty solid."

Daniel walked up to the scanner and picked up the sheet of paper. "A binding Rune."

Martin didn't like the troubled look on Daniel's face.

Sparks ignited from somewhere in the hearth and it turned into a blazing blue fire. Martin looked past the egg and into the stone hearth; there wasn't any kindling, just stone and fire. "What the hell? How did that happen?"

The Scot was standing a few feet away his arm stretched out toward the flames. There was a flash from the ends of his fingers and flames leapt from the tips and ignited a green fire in the hearth. Both fires danced and licked the hearth as the Scot mumbled words under his breath.

The Scot jerked around. "Mr. Cunningham, quickly! Throw the egg into the fire."

Martin was dumbfounded. "How did you do that?"

"That is not important. Throw it into the fire."

Martin looked down at the egg. In the firelight, it was beautiful. The mother-of-pearl sheen and minute crystals embedded within the shell twinkled in the light. "What's the hurry? It's not a threat to anyone. Why can't we—"

The sound of a crack was loud and a shudder raced through Martin's body. Everything around him seemed to slow down as he watched the small break move along the top of the shell. His stomach heaved and Martin felt the sting of bile at the back of his throat.

"Quickly," the Scot yelled, and reached for the egg. "It has to be destroyed before it hatches!"

The Scot grabbed the egg from his hands as Martin doubled over and threw up.

"Martin!"

He heard Barb scream but couldn't move. It was everything he could do to keep from throwing up again.

"The shell must be toxic," the Scot said, and threw it toward the fire.

Martin forced his head up. The egg was halfway across the room when the shell fell apart and the creature inside fell onto the floor. The Brosnie was small, no bigger than six inches, with one giant eye and was as thin as a pencil. Ugly as hell too. It reared up and hissed at everyone. Daniel and Barb backed off as far as possible, while the Scot moved closer and held out his arms.

"Everyone, keep away from it," he said, and looked at Martin. "Are you all right?"

Martin nodded and wiped his mouth on his sleeve as the nauseous feelings subsided. "I think I'll live."

It reared up a few more times, turning its one eye from side to side. Martin was sure it was scanning the room, looking for a way out.

The Scot moved closer, arms out wide, circling it. The creature slid along the floor circling in the same direction. Martin clenched his jaw. If he weren't so nauseous, this would be funny.

A fireball shot out from the tips of the Scot's fingers, and Martin rubbed his eyes. The poison must still be affecting him. He thought he saw the worm curl up the corners of its snake-like mouth.

Again, another ball of fire hit the creature and this time Martin was positive it came from the Scot's fingertips.

"How did you do that?" he asked, not really sure if he wanted an answer.

"That is not important," the Scot said. "Focus, Mr. Cunningham. It must be destroyed!"

Another fireball hit it, but other than it dissolving into a puff of smoke, nothing happened.

"It must be fused with Salamander blood," Aslin said. "Fire has no effect on it."

Martin felt light-headed as a wave of panic washed over him.

Aslin is in danger!

"Watch out!"

The Scot glared back at him. The worm wasn't just ugly; it was fast. It leapt at the Scot, mouth open, and with its rows of sharp teeth, clamped down on his hand.

The Scot screamed in pain and flicked his wrist hard, breaking the worm's grip and throwing it back on the floor. This time, closer to Martin.

Martin had a better look at it now. The same crystal flicks on the shell were in its leathery skin, but its ashen tone helped it to blend in with the flagstones. Martin squinted to get a better look, as it reared its head and glared up with one big red eye. He took a step back as the creature slithered forward.

"Don't let it escape!" Aslin yelled from the floor. Barb was already at his side, administering first aid.

It slithered sideways and Martin took a few steps trying to block it. It moved in another direction, and again Martin blocked its path.

"Get a cold compress!" Barb yelled. Martin hoped she was talking to Daniel, as he was slightly busy dancing around with a worm.

It scooted to the left, coming closer each time and Martin backed off a bit. He sure as hell didn't want to get bit.

Daniel came running out from the bathroom, and it lunged at Martin. Martin jumped back, barely missing the rows of sharp teeth. They danced around each other, until it had a clear shot at the exit. It shuffled forward like an inch worm, but a chair slid across the floor, hit the door and slammed it shut.

Martin turned around. Daniel had a wide grin on his face.

"Nice move!"

Daniel beamed. "Thanks!"

Martin focused on the worm again as it hissed through its sharp teeth.

Daniel skirted along the tables. "Oh, he's not happy."

"Ya think?" Martin replied, not impressed that he was again being confronted by the psycho worm.

"Kill it!" Aslin yelled from the floor.

"With what?" Martin yelled back. "Not everyone in this room can shoot fireballs out of our finger tips!"

"Try this," Daniel said, and threw a broom.

Catching it, Martin frowned. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Sweep him to death?"

"Hit it!" Daniel shouted.

Martin didn't need to be told twice, and faced the creature, bristles ready to do battle. The worm was not only a fast attacker, but could evade pretty quickly too. Martin slammed the head of the broom on the floor a few times. The worm's colouring made it difficult to distinguish it from the flagstones. He banged the broom as fast as possible, and then on one of his bashes, the broom felt heavier. Martin raised it a few feet above the floor. There, clinging to the end of the bristles was the creature. Martin had to admit, it was one smart worm.

He raised the broom a little higher, unsure of how to get it off. He shook it, trying to force it loose, and then realized it could let go and land on him. He bashed the head of the broom against the floor again, this time putting all his strength behind it. The weight of the broom shifted, and gasps from behind confirmed his fear. The damn thing let go in mid-air and sailed across the room, landing perfectly on the seat of the toilet.

The Scot yelled something incoherent as Martin took off for the bathroom, but was too late. With one final, menacing laugh, it dove into the bowl. Martin got to the toilet in time to see it swim into the u-bend.

"Dammit," he said. "Out smarted by a worm."

## Chapter Three

The rain pelted the windshield of the SUV as the vehicle darted between traffic on the QE2 freeway. Martin kept a close eye on Daniel from the passenger seat as the young man navigated his way through the traffic with an almost uncanny ability, and at speeds Martin wouldn't push on a racetrack.

"How much further?" Barb asked from the backseat. She sat next to the Scot, keeping her focus solely on him as he sat resting next to her.

Martin looked back. They were in a race to save the Aslin's life now, and it didn't look like they were winning. Beads of sweat dotted the Scot's forehead and chest. His long hair was damp from the wet cloth Barb dabbed around his face and neck. The worm might have been a newborn, but from the fevered state the Scot was in, it was still deadly.

"Maybe another ten minutes," Daniel said, keeping his focus ahead of him. "This rain is really clogging up traffic."

Martin glanced at Daniel, then back at the Scot. A pit of guilt gripped his stomach. "Is there anything I can do?"

The Scot slowly opened his eyes. "I think you've done enough for one day." He rubbed the bandage on his injured hand.

Martin glanced at the tips of the Scot's fingers. They were slightly darker than the rest of his hand and he wondered if it was caused by the flames. "I didn't force that thing to bite you, and if you recall, I did try to warn you."

The Scot pushed himself forward. "You distracted me with your yelling."

Martin felt his own temper coming to a boil. "Hey, I was doing everything I could--"

"You were hitting a dangerously, magical creature with a common custodial broom!" The Scot narrowed his eyes. "I'm amazed we're all not dead after that little stunt."

"At least I was hurting it. Those flaming fingertips of yours just pissed it off!"

"Gentlemen, please," Barb said. "Arguing over who is to blame is pointless. What's done is done. We have to focus on getting Aslin out of danger."

"He's right, you know," Daniel said, taking a quick glance in the rear view mirror. "It knew Jezryall wasn't in the room and wanted to get out. That's why it bit you. You were in the way."

Martin looked at Daniel. "How the hell do you know that?"

The Scot collapsed backward, and rested his head on the seat and closed his eyes. Barb reached over and placed her hand on his forehead.

"He's getting warmer."

Daniel jerked the SUV through traffic. "We're almost to the turnoff."

Martin sat forward in his seat. "I say we take him to the hospital. It's only few blocks from the off ramp--"

"And tell them what?" Barb said. "They'd never believe us, and it would only bring up questions we can't answer."

Martin looked out the window as they crossed over a stone bridge. "We're heading to Québec?"

"The Gemini live in an old part of Hull," Daniel said, turning down a street.

Martin wasn't paying attention as Daniel drove down one street after another. His mind was full of possibilities. Things he wished he'd done differently. So far, this was the worse first day of work he'd ever had.

Rain pelted the road and sidewalk as they pulled up to a row of little storefronts. The buildings were old and made of grey limestone. With the cloud cover, everything looked washed out. Kind of the way he felt.

Daniel pulled up to the curb and put the car in park. "We're here."

The young man got out and ran around to Aslin's side of the car, as Martin grabbed a black cloth bag from the floor in front of him before getting out.

"Easy," Daniel said, as the Scot stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Lean on me."

Martin looked up at the building. They were outside of an occult shop. Martin read the worn sign above the door. It was in French, but he knew enough of the language to understand it. "I thought we were going to visit this friend of yours, Gemini?"

"We are," Barb said as she slid over to the open door. "This whole block of buildings belongs to them."

Martin frowned. "Them?"

The Scot leaned on Daniel as they walked up to the huge wooden door at the front of the shop. Barb stepped out of the car and grabbed a hold of Martin's shirt.

"About this place," she said, as Daniel helped the Scot into the store. "Please try and keep an open mind. There are bound to be some things said that you might not understand."

Martin thought back to the workshop; the fireballs that streamed from the finger of the Scot, how Barb knew what was in the box, and that damn ugly worm, and gave her a sardonic look. "No kidding."

He fell into line, heading into the building behind Barb. The store reminded him of the corridor outside the office, with the same heavy incense and dim lighting. There were rows and rows of books, stands with carved stone images of ancient deities, candles, crystals, and other things he'd only seen in B-movies.

A young woman stood behind a glass counter full of amulets, pendants and chains. She was in full Goth mode and didn't even bat an eyelash when they walked in.

Martin lagged behind as the group moved through the store, toward a beaded doorway into a back storage room. It was nothing out of the ordinary, except for a stone doorway on the back wall behind some boxes. There were strange markings etched in the stone, and as they passed through, Martin noticed one of the markings was the same as the one found on the sheet of paper inside the box.

Martin stopped and touched them, pointing to one in particular, high on the arch. "Runes?"

"Very good," Barb smiled.

He felt pleased with himself. "I think I'm catching on."

There were stairs leading in to a lower chamber underneath the store. Drippy candles were everywhere. It was a safe bet Jezryall got her supply from here.

"That looks like the one that was on top of the egg."

"A protective Rune," Daniel said. "Pretty powerful stuff."

Martin was the last to the bottom of the stairs and stood on the last step as the others waited by a wooden door. The chamber walls were made of limestone, stained with water seepage that trickled through the mortar between the stones.

"What is this place?" he asked, squinting to get a better look at the marks around the archway. A musty odour mixed with the stale air tickled his nose, and Martin rubbed it quickly to get rid of the sensation.

"This is the home of Gemini," Jezryall said. "But we must wait here until invited."

Martin jumped. Jezryall was standing in front of a rapidly vanishing stone arch. Wisps of black smoke trailed off from the bottom portion of her body.

"How did you get here?" he asked.

She didn't look at him as she walked past. "Through the Portal."

She stopped in front of the Scot and examined his wound. "He does not look well."

"I'm amazed he's doing this good," Daniel said. "That bite should have killed him."

"Do your friends know we're here?" Martin asked, looking around.

There was a gentle click of metal on metal, and the door in front of them creaked and released. Jezryall reached for the door and pulled it open all the way.

A middle-aged woman with long black hair stood on the other side. Her gaze fell on Martin and she smiled. "We do." She turned and walked down a dark corridor. "Quickly, bring Aslin inside!"

Martin was the last to enter the corridor. The narrow passage was dark but thankfully short. It was musty and damp, and there were more of the drippy candles on the wall. Smoke from several incense holders drifted around the room. A large circular table sat right in the middle of the floor. Underneath it, the same intricate circle drawing like the one in Jezryall's office. The room was furnished with a few high back chairs, wooden cupboards, and three more stone archways with heavy red velvet curtains draped across. The place felt too much like a funeral parlour.

Martin shut the door behind him and leaned up against the wall. Daniel and Barb helped the Scot sit down at the table as his new boss approached their host.

The woman held out her arms. "Jezryall, it's been a long time."

A tall middle-aged man walked out from a back room and went directly to the Scot's side. Apart from the difference in their clothing and gender, both of their hosts were identical.

Jezryall walked into the woman's embrace. "Too long, I'm afraid." She released her and faced Martin. "May I introduce our new Public Liaison officer, Martin Cunningham. Martin--" Jezryall motioned to the middle-aged man. "This is Apollo and his twin sister, Artemis."

Martin frowned. "Your parents named you after the Greek gods?"

Artemis smiled and walked toward him. She cupped her hand around the one side of his face. "My son, we are the Greek gods."

Martin straightened up and took a few steps closer to the exit. "Okay. Whatever you say."

Apollo walked over to the Scot and examined his hand. "My friend, what happened?"

Martin held up the bag and handed it to Artemis. "He was attacked by the creature that was in this egg. A Brosnie?"

Their faces grew pale at the mention of the worm. Artemis took the bag and opened it, removing one of the egg fragments. She examined it carefully, turning it over and gently ran her fingertip along the edge. "There is powerful magic in this. This creature was created solely for one purpose."

Jezryall crossed her arms. "The package was addressed to me. To my home."

Apollo walked over to one of the cupboards and opened it. He took down several vials and a large glass jar, placing them carefully on the counter underneath. His sister handed him the broken shell, and he snapped off a piece and placed it in the jar. Martin watched as the older man added a few drops from each of the vials and swished the contents around. The liquid turned dark red, then black, before settling on a mud-brown. He held up the jar. "Dark forces are behind this."

"How did something like this get to you?" Artemis asked.

"It was delivered to the tower and given to my new employee."

Artemis walked toward Martin. The look she gave him made him feel like he'd done something wrong, and he focused his gaze down at the floor. She stopped right in front of him and waved her hand around his head. "I have always said Barbara has a talent for finding lost sheep." She turned and faced the group. "So his arrival is no surprise. When did he come into your service?"

"Just this morning," Jezryall said.

Artemis placed her finger under his chin and raised his head. Her eyes were a dark violet and her gaze felt like it pierced his soul. "You have a lot of learning ahead of you, young man, if you are to earn your place at your Mistress' side."

Martin nodded. He didn't think it was worth mentioning this was just a temporary job. "So what about this creature? We're trying to find out who could have sent it."

Apollo carefully added a pinch of dry herbs and a few drops of red liquid. The tincture became clear and he handed it to Barb.

"Brosnies are water creatures," he said, as Barb brought it to the Scot's lips. "For it to be fused with other elements takes skill in dark magic." He turned to the group. "By someone who is willing to risk their soul to perverse the laws of nature."

Martin smirked. "Again with the dark magic. Are you kidding me?"

Artemis encircled her arm around Martin's and gently pulled him away from the door. "There are many things about this world mankind has no knowledge of. The vast population rises every morning blissfully unaware of the energies working all around them. Influencing their every move, their every thought."

"So someone sent Jezryall this worm to influence her?" Martin asked, trying to maneuver himself free. She seemed like a nice lady if it wasn't for the fact she thought she was a Greek goddess.

"No, Mr. Cunningham," Jezryall said. "Because of the nature of the creature, I can only assume this was an attempt on my life."

Martin frowned. "Who would want to kill you?"

Artemis gave her brother a concerned look. "That is the real question."

Apollo walked over to a large wooden bookcase and removed an atlas. It was then that Martin noticed the trail of white smoke that connected him to his twin.

"Brosnie are rare creatures ruled by Water and Earth." He placed the atlas on the table and let it fall open on its own. "They requires constant humidity and darkness during their incubation period. This is how they create their venom." He held his hand open over the brightly coloured depictions of the countries. "This country is too far north to produce the proper amount of humidity." He ran his finger along the pages until it rested on the northern tip of South America. "This is the river that flows into Victoria Lake," he said to Jezryall. "And at the bottom of this lake is where you will find the eggs."

"Someone knew where to look for it?" Daniel said.

Apollo closed the book. "Apparently so."

"But why would someone want to hurt her?" Barb asked. "Jezryall rarely leaves the building. Hardly anyone knows she's there--"

"But someone does," Artemis interrupted, and wandered back over to Jezryall's side.

"Exactly," Apollo said. "Learn who removed the egg from the lake, and you will have your answers to all of this."

"What exactly is a Brosnie, anyway?" Martin asked.

"It is an ancient creature, created by the gods as a means of controlling mankind." Artemis said. "A few drops into a village well would make the entire population sick." She turned away from them and walked to her brother. "A full venom sack would kill them all."

Apollo rested his hand on his sister's shoulder, gazing sympathetically at her.

Martin motioned to the Scot. "He said its venom can kill instantly." He looked over at the Scot. "So why is he still alive?"

"Two reasons," the Scot said, dabbing the wound on his hand. "First, it was just a hatchling, so its venom, although potent, is not yet deadly."

"And second?" Martin asked.

The Scot sat forward, keeping his eyes focused on Martin. "I am a member of a very powerful family," he said, removing the cloth to show a healed hand. "Druid magic runs through my veins." He looked over at Artemis. "I believe the protection spell I was focusing on is the reason I did not die."

"Druidism," Martin said. "Isn't that some kind of new age folk belief?"

"Do not mock him," Artemis said. "His devotion to his ancestry has made him very powerful. His family has practiced Druidism since before Romans came to the Highlands."

Martin scratched his head. This conversation just went off the deep end. "So someone sends a worm with deadly venom to Jezryall to kill her?"

No one replied. It didn't seem that far-fetched of a question, did it? Yet he caught a few passing glances, and Martin got the distinct impression he was still missing a big piece of the puzzle.

"The venom would only have killed her human side." Artemis said.

Martin frowned. "Wait--her what?"

Artemis tilted her head to one side. "Jezryall is a _Cambion_."

"Campion?" Martin's eyes glanced over at his boss. "Is that some kind of secret pagan religion too?"

Quick glances between the twins caused Martin to think otherwise. "What? What did I miss?"

Apollo gave Jezryall a scornful look. "You did not tell him?"

Jezryall exhaled deeply. "I have not had the time."

Martin's glance darted around the room, but everyone noticeably avoided his gaze.

"You must find out who sent this creature," Apollo said. "Find the person and you will find the reason."

I will stay here." Jezryall walked over to Aslin's side. "You three continue the search. See if Barbara's friend has found something."

The rain had changed into a mist as Barb, Daniel and Martin walked out of the occult shop. No one said anything as they left. Martin wasn't even upset that no one answered his question. Didn't matter anyway. He didn't care what was a Campion was, but it was looking more and more like this was going to be the job week from hell. He pulled his jacket tight around his body. He wished he'd walked out at the first sign of weirdness that morning.

They climbed into the SUV, with Barb behind the wheel this time. Martin climbed into the passenger side and clicked his seatbelt. It bugged him that someone would try to kill Jezryall. She didn't come across as a horrible person, and Barb did say he would love working for her. So maybe this some kind of disgruntled employee revenge plot?

Barb opened her cell phone and pressed one of the buttons. Martin stared out the window, watching beads of water drip down the windshield.

"Hey, it's me. Did you find anything about that parcel? Really? Okay, thanks." From the dejected tone in her voice, it didn't sound good.

She closed the phone and puts it back in her purse, as Daniel leaned forward.

Martin broke the silence. "Any luck?"

"Dead end," she said. "Brian tracked down the delivery guy but it was given to his company anonymously. No name and they paid with cash."

"What about a description? Did they get any kind of look at the guy?"

Barb shook her head. "Just that he was well dressed and had a Russian accent."

"That's a start," Martin said.

Barb scrunched up her face. "How is an accent something to go on?"

Martin turned and leaned against the door. "Are you kidding me? We don't have just the accent. Look at everything else." He counted down on his fingers. "An egg from a different country and a guy with an accent."

A smile lit up Daniel's face. "A foreign courier!"

Barb pursed her lips. "That doesn't fit. International couriers have to screen all their parcels. If Customs saw the egg, they would have pulled it."

"So the egg got into this country by different means."

Daniel's eyes lit up again. "A diplomat?"

Martin straightened up and pointed his finger at Daniel. "Exactly, or someone who could get diplomatic status. They're not questioned as strictly as regular passengers. Someone with forged diplomatic papers could easily smuggle the egg into the country."

Barb shook her head, looking confused. "So you're saying someone from the Russian Embassy smuggled this in?"

"Can you think of another explanation?"

"But we can't go running off to the Russian embassy and accuse them of smuggling in a dangerous creature. Let alone a magical one."

Daniel turned to her. "You could touch stuff there and find the person we're looking for."

Barb rolled her eyes. "Daniel, it's an embassy and considered foreign territory. They're not going to let us waltz in for no reason."

Martin smiled. "Maybe not at the Embassy, but isn't there a certain terminal used only for diplomats at the airport?"

"Yeah, it's for dignitaries, celebrities--" Her eyes grew wide. "I see where you're going with this!"

"Only if you're up for it," Martin said. "It didn't look like you enjoyed the experience back at the office."

Barb gave him a wicked smile as she turned the key in the ignition. "Don't worry about it. You'll just owe me big time."

## Chapter Four

The mist had all but stopped as Barb pulled up to the loading area in front of the airport. Martin jumped out of the passenger side and headed straight for the sliding doors, Daniel and Barb right behind him. The terminal was busy. People rushed back and forth through the airport or congregated in lines in front of ticket counters--all except for one counter at the far end of the building. A lone attendant sat reading a magazine.

Martin stopped several meters away from the terminal and scanned the area. There were a few security guards near the busier terminals, with only one hanging around the one they were interested in, but for the most part the area was vacant.

His heart raced and he couldn't help but smile. This was the craziest thing in the world! They could get thrown out of the airport, so why was he having such a good time?

"There's only one guard for this area," he said, as Barb and Daniel came up behind him. "Do you need us to distract him or anything?"

"No. I just need to get close enough to the terminal to touch it."

They walk up to the counter and were immediately noticed by both the ticket agent and the security guard. Martin smiled at the agent, but had no idea what to say. Maybe he should have thought about this a bit more before coming over.

The ticket agent frowned as she looked them over. Martin's good feeling drained away with her look. He waited for a pleasant greeting, but none came.

"Can I help you?"

The security guard's stance became rigid and he moved toward the counter.

Martin's mind was empty. On the debate team, he was able to formulate a counter-response in seconds, but as he looked into the intimidating glare of the ticket agent, he drew a blank.

Barb's soft voice suddenly rang in his ear. "Is this where Diplomats and special envoys enter the country?"

The agent focused her harsh glare at Barb. "Yes it is, but I'm sorry, this area is restricted."

"That's fine," Martin said, as Barb slowly moved toward the scanner. "We don't want to go in there, but do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

The security guard puffed out his chest as Barb sauntered over to the scanner. She kept her head tilted to one side and flashing the guard a mischievous smile. Martin clenched his jaw a few times, trying to hide his amusement.

The ticket agent focused back on Martin. "That depends on what the questions are."

"I was wondering," he said, mulling over possible phrases that didn't make him sound like a lunatic, "if anyone has come through this gate, say in the last month or so, with an odd package?"

There. It was out. Martin held his breath as the agent's blank expression didn't change.

"Define odd."

Daniel poked his head out from behind him. "Egg-shaped."

A frustrated sigh escaped from Martin as he closed his eyes. So much for not sounding crazy. He glanced over at Barb, who appeared to have the guard wrapped around her finger. At least that part was going well.

The ticket agent frowned. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

Martin watched Barb as she reached over and touched the scanner. A calm look washed over her face as she breathed deep. She looked beautiful in this peaceful state; so tranquil. He looked back at the ticket agent and smiled. "I assure you ma'am, this is no joke."

***

Barb never thought the sensation of traveling through time was as nauseating as people were led to believe. Sure, maybe a little disorientating. She threw up all over her brand new Gucci boots the first time she shunted down someone's timeline, but that was more from fear than anything else. It was definitely something you got used too.

She opened her eyes, but kept her hand on the scanner. All around her, people raced past at an unnatural speed. Walking backward and talking like a record in reverse. Rewind in real life. Passengers passed through her like a summer breeze. She could feel their presence as they came in contact with her body. She knew their hopes, their fears, even the darker parts of their soul. All the secrets they kept to themselves. It was intoxicating to have such intimate knowledge of a person with just a touch, and was too easy to lose herself in someone else's life. She became disheartened. Maybe that's why she would steal it. Living as someone else was always easier than being herself.

She focused her mind and the movement around her sped up. Day turned into night, then back into day. The weather changed. A storm rolled over the airport, but nothing about any of the people coming through this terminal looked suspicious. Until a tall, very pale man stepped out of the gate.

He was holding a large suitcase, but it was the way he was dressed that caught her attention. The designer suit, shoes, even the stylish sunglasses all screamed money, and the more she focused on his attire, the more the world around her began to slow down. With his balding hairline and aging features, he would have been an easy mark for her years ago. Men like that always jumped at the chance to have a beautiful woman on their arm, and she was only too happy to lighten their mood. Not to mention their bank accounts.

Yet there was something about this one that caused a tingle to race up her spine.

I don't like this.

She shivered. The world around her slowed down to a dead stop. Keeping her hand on the scanner, she stepped closer. Odd he would be wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night. Who did that? She peeked behind them. His eyes were partially closed, but what little she could see were glassy and milk white with a faint hint of colour where the iris should be.

Crap! This isn't good.

She examined him more carefully. Her eyes drifted to the exposed flesh of his chest. There was some discoloration partially hidden by the material. She gently pulled the shirt to one side, and saw the tip of a red scar trail off under his shirt. She took a sniff. There was the slight smell of sulphur as well.

Definitely not a good sign.

She looked down at his right hand, extended toward the ticket agent. The passport was open. He was Russian, and definitely connected to the Embassy. If anything, this was enough creepy to warrant checking the building out.

Running her hand along the metal surface, Barb walked over to the front of the scanner. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Everything began to move forward...

***

"I assure you, ma'am, this is no joke."

Barb stumbled back a few steps, and brought her hand to her forehead. "Wow, what a rush."

The security guard grabbed a hold of her as Daniel jumped to her side.

"That's all right," Daniel said, as he embraced her around the waist. "I've got you."

She smiled and leaned on him for support. "Thanks. Maybe we should go now?"

Martin looked at the couple, then back at the ticket agent. What was she talking about? Why didn't she do that...that...thing she was supposed to do? He watched as his co-workers walked away toward the front entrance, then turned and smiled at the guard and agent.

"Sorry to have bothered you," Martin nodded, feeling awkward at being left behind. "You're both doing an excellent job. Carry on!"

Something was wrong. Barb didn't look well. Her eyes were partially closed and she was having difficulty walking. Daniel helped her to a row of seats near a newspaper kiosk. She slumped forward, resting her head in her hands as Daniel sat next to her, rubbing her back.

"What the hell?" Martin said, walking up to them. "I thought we had a plan?"

Barb looked up at him and frowned. "We did, and I think it went pretty good considering you choked."

Martin stood rigid. "I didn't choke. You didn't give me enough time to think of anything."

"Enough time? This was your idea!" She leaned back in the seat. "And you were right. We do need to look at the Russian Embassy a little harder."

Martin sat on the bench next to her. "How do you know? You weren't there long enough to find out anything."

Barb shook her head and stood up. There were several flat screen televisions broadcasting different channels at the kiosk. She stood in front of a news channel and folded her arms across her chest.

Martin glanced over at Daniel, who only shrugged.

"If you weren't up to this," Martin said, as he followed her over. "We could have found another way."

Barb gave him a dirty look. "What are you talking about? I think I got the information we'll need."

"Really?" Martin said. His eyes scanned her face. She looked worried, almost fearful. "That was fast. I figured we'd need more time, like back at the office."

She let out an exhausted sigh. "I was overwhelmed by the presence of the creature when I touched the box." She tilted her head to one side and frowned. "This was more a matter of traveling back."

"Back? Back where?"

Daniel came up on the other side of her and rubbed her back. "Back in time."

"If I focus hard enough," Barb said, keeping her eyes on the monitor. "I can travel back through the timeline of an object."

Martin smiled. "Well, that's impressive. So what did you see?"

She looked at him, then back at the screen. "It's more like who did I see."

"Okay, _who_ did you see?"

She didn't answer. Just kept her attention on the news broadcast. Martin rolled his eyes. He was getting tired of these games. He looked to the monitor as video of a funeral played before them. There were hundreds of people attending the ceremony, but the volume was too low and Martin couldn't hear the commentary. Then a picture of the deceased flashed across the broadcast.

"I saw him."

***

The meeting room under the occult shop was eerily still. Artemis brought over a serving tray of beverages and placed it on the table in the center of the room, and began unloading the tray.

Martin sat next to Barb in one of the heavy, high back chairs. He was still trying to wrap his head around the situation. How could Barb have seen a dead man walking through the airport gate? Wasn't that physically impossible?

No one was in a pleasant mood. Their fact-finding mission put more tension into their situation. Martin watched as the Scot paced back and forth in front of Apollo, who leaned against the wall rubbing his lips with his thumb.

Jezryall sat in the chair directly across from Martin. Her eyes shifted nervously back and forth. She reminded him of a frightened child; lost and scared.

Artemis picked up a delicate shaped cup, poured some steaming brown liquid into it, and set it down in front of Barb. At first, Barb didn't acknowledge the gesture, but a nudge from Daniel on her other side broke her concentration and she reached for the cup.

The Scot stopped and faced Barb. "Are you sure it was a Russian envoy you saw come through the gate?"

Barb took a sip and rubbed her forehead. "I'm positive. I've seen him on the news more than once. Speaking on behalf of the Embassy."

Artemis looked over at Martin. "He was their Public Liaison."

Martin shook his head. "I don't get it. How could she see a man who's been dead for over a week? It's impossible!"

Apollo leaned forward, taking a few steps toward them. "Nothing is impossible."

"I don't like where this is going," Daniel whispered, and got up from the table. He kept his gaze down as he shuffled his way to one of the dark corners.

"Neither do I," the Scot said, and took Daniel's place at the table. "Only a twisted mind would desecrate a dead body in that manner."

"Twisted, or desperate," Apollo said, standing next to the Scot. "There is a lot of dark magic around this. If you continue to investigate, you will need to proceed with caution."

"So what are you saying?" Martin asked. "This guy's like a zombie or something?"

Jezryall's gaze rested on Martin. "Not like, Mr. Cunningham. Is."

Martin rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous. "There's no such thing as zombies. It's just a story made to frighten people, and make bad movies."

Barb reached out and grabbed his arm, looking him in the eyes. "Remember when I told you there would be times you would need an open mind?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes flared with anger. "This is one of those times!"

Martin scoffed and yanked his arm from her grip. "Believing in the worm was one thing, it was alive, but there is no way you can bring the dead back to life."

He pushed himself away from the table. The chair scraped along the flagstones as he stood up. Screw two weeks' worth of pay. These people weren't worth it. He walked out into the entrance foyer and headed for the door. The sooner he got away from these nutcases, the better. If anything, he could chalk this day up as one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

Artemis' soft voice called to him before he reached the door. "Mr. Cunningham? Where are you going?"

Martin stopped, his hand on the knob of the door. "I'm leaving. What does it look like?"

It was the oddest of things. Martin knew the woman was walking up behind him, but she made no sound.

"You do not believe what Barbara saw was real?"

"You could say that."

Artemis placed her hand on top of his. "And yet, you've seen some incredible things today. Why do you not believe in those?"

Martin turned and looked at her. She was beautiful, Greek goddess beautiful with a sense about her that dampened his annoyance. "I saw a one-eyed worm with fangs hiss at me. I saw fire shoot out of some guy's fingers, and I have no idea how Jezryall got here, but she didn't ride with us in the van." He paused for a moment. "I know Barb said to keep an open mind, but bringing the dead back to life? That's asking for too much."

Artemis entwined her arm around his, and pulled on him to follow. "Please, Mr. Cunningham, walk with me."

She led him through a stone archway just to the left of the entrance foyer. He wanted to break free but Artemis' hold was strong. He was all but lost to follow her through the dark curtains and into a circular room.

The stone walls were etched with one continuous row of white Runes, connected in a corkscrew line that encircled the room. A large pentagram was embedded in the centre of the floor, with another directly above on the ceiling. One lone drippy candle was mounted on the wall, and Martin felt his stomach flip as Artemis pulled him to stand in the center of the circle.

"What is this place?" he asked, as his gaze darted around the stone walls.

"A portal, of sorts," she said. "It is a room that allows me to see places and things that are not of this world."

Martin frowned. "Not of this world?"

Artemis walked to the edge of the circle, and then faced him. "Close your eyes."

Martin complied and at once strange noises began to fill the room. It was a tearing sound, or a burning sound, he wasn't sure, and there were distinct growls and snarls in the distance.

"Open your eyes."

The lone candle flickered as the Runes on the wall pulsed with an ethereal glow. The limestone wall expanded and retracted, distorting the texture of the stone. Martin focused on a spot directly in front of him, as a claw tried to push through the masonry. It was muscular and large and looked animated. It couldn't be real. This was some kind of projection. He stepped to the edge of the circle and reached out. The claw swiped at him, the tip of one talon slicing the palm of his hand.

He jumped back, pulling his injured hand to his chest. "What the hell is that?"

Artemis ripped off a piece of her clothing and wrapped it around his hand. "Demons, Mr. Cunningham. Creatures that have haunted the footsteps of mankind for eons." She tied off the bandage and stepped to the edge of the circle. "We are safe here, within this ring of protection. The Runes etched on the walls keep them from crossing through to our world."

Martin looked down at his hand. This couldn't be real, could it? The pain shooting through his hand was real enough. "You mean these things come here? Into our world?"

"Yes. All the time."

Martin watched another part of the wall expand and retract. "How?"

Artemis walked along the edge of the circle. "Portals, human vessels. The mode is as diverse as Hell itself." She faced the wall and held up her arms. " _Curator of elementum! Aufero is terra obex_!"

The floor vibrated as a rumbling sound filled the room. Martin watched in awe as the stone walls crumbled away, but the glowing line of Runes stayed in place. He looked down. Wisps of black smoke licked his shoes, and at once, he was overcome by a noxious odour.

He covered his nose. "What is that smell?"

"Brimstone," Artemis said. "It is an odour you will never forget."

In the background, he saw a landscape of ghostly images. A lush field and forests with a river of red liquid cutting through the ground. Martin felt a cold chill wash over him even though a warm breeze blew through the room. "What is this place?"

Artemis walked over to his side. "This is the first level of Hell, Mr. Cunningham. In ancient times it was called _Acheron_ , but now it is known as Limbo."

Martin looked at her. "Limbo? Are you serious? I thought that was just some made up place."

"Oh, no, it is a very real. As is Hell itself."

Martin watched as hundreds of ghostly shadows wandered aimlessly around, placid looks on all their faces. Some would pass through the gnarled trees and bushes, but for the most part, they didn't interact with their surroundings.

"What are they doing?"

"Waiting to be chosen for a place on the list."

"The list!" Martin's eyes flashed. "I met a guy in the mail room of Terin Global who was afraid he would lose his place on a list."

Artemis smiled. "Souls who are in Hell or Limbo must work their way up the list to gain entry into Heaven."

The landscape moved--or maybe the room moved, Martin wasn't sure. He felt his stomach flip as other landscapes came and went. "Why are you showing me this?"

"To help you understand." She took him by the arm and led him to the edge of the circle. "When a person dies, their time on Earth is evaluated by how well they lived their life. Not through material possession or accomplishment, but how they treated themselves and others. If one does something bad, it can be balanced out by doing something good, but if there is no balance, and the soul becomes too heavily tainted, it cannot pass through the veil into Heaven."

The background changed to a barren landscape with a large castle off on the horizon. The sky was blood red as huge dark clouds spawned whirlwinds that battered the landscape, tossing ghostly apparitions around. Martin flinched as outstretched arms flailed in every direction, trying desperately to cling to something. Small fires dotted the foreground, illuminating groups of people huddled by the fires, the winds not affecting them at all.

Martin couldn't look away from the pathetic scene. "What happened to them?"

"Lust, Mr. Cunningham. Lured by Sirens into a life of their own selfish needs. They put their desire for sexual pleasure, money, anything, ahead of everything else, and at the expense of others."

A trail of black smoke darted across the skyline, and then came straight down in front of them. It hovered for a moment; dark red eyes focused on Martin. The smoke churned into a female form. Her size reminded Martin of the middle-aged woman from the bus. The smoke rolled around until the form of the same woman stood before them. She gave Martin a wicked smile, and he turned away when he noticed she was naked.

"Lucra," Artemis said.

"A demon?" Martin asked.

"One of the oldest. Demons on this level are the offspring of the lustful unions between the gods. They feed on the lustful energy created by humans."

Martin kept his focus on the woman's face as the demon walked around to a young woman standing near a campfire.

"I saw some of that black smoke trailing off of Jezryall earlier today." He looked at Artemis. "Is she one of those things?"

A proud smile lit up Artemis's face. "Jezryall is special. She is a very rare creature."

Again, the landscape changed. This time, to a frozen wasteland. Cold winds blew through the small room as their view focused in on a rocky valley. There were no trees or vegetation of any kind. Only a frozen lake with a large winged creature trapped in the center, half of its body submerged below the ice.

Martin's blood ran cold. He didn't need to ask who the creature was. "He is real."

Martin sensed Artemis stiffness. "Lucifer is very real. As it everything you see."

Martin couldn't take his eyes off the frozen image of Lucifer. His exposed body was frail and black, like it was burnt in a fire, his wings like leather and charred. There were no horns or tail, and the more Martin stared at the creature, the more he was filled with a sense of sympathy. He knew he should be repulsed at the sight of him, but there was something about the look on its face that made Martin feel sorry for him.

Two more creatures came into view as they walked around Lucifer. One looked human; his body scarred deep with long gashes and burnt flesh. The other took the form of a skinless and grotesque animal that walked on all fours.

His stomach heaved at the sight of them. "What are they?"

"The demon hound, Korthos, and his master, Satan." Artemis crossed her arms. "They tend to Lucifer."

"Tend? Wait, I thought Satan and Lucifer were the same thing?"

"No, they are two separate entities." There was an unmistakable coldness in her tone. She turned and smiled at him. "But that is enough for today." She released her hold on his arm and raised her arms in the air. _"Elementum tutela, EGO scisco habeo terra obex recidivus!"_

Again, the ground vibrated as the limestone tumbled upward, reforming the circular walls of the room. Martin held his breath, unsure if he was in a dream or awake. This has to be a dream. Everything he was shown--it couldn't be real? His palm began to throb again. He looked down at the bandage and clenched his fist.

Artemis took his hand and rubbed the injury with her index finger. A warm tingling sensation filled his palm. "There is much in this world that people do not see. Much they do not know."

Martin unwrapped the bandage. The gash was gone, but a thin pink line remained.

Astonished, he clenched his fist. "Wh-what happened?" He looked into her eyes. "Who are you? Really?"

"I told you who we are."

Martin balked. "Greek gods? Come on!"

"My brother and I were created to watch over and help guide mankind."

"So you tell us what to do? Protect us from..." He motioned toward the wall.

Artemis turned and headed toward the dark curtain. "We provide a balance. Just as Hell has its disciples doing their best to lure you in, the Guardians of Man whisper an alternative to the demon's temptations, but it's up to the individual to choose their path. We cannot choose it for you."

Martin followed her. He wasn't confused anymore. Just the opposite now. The idea of what could be out there waiting for him was more frightening than the worm.

He walked out into the entrance foyer and stopped. The door leading upstairs was wide open. All he had to do was just keep on going. Could he? This job was becoming more dangerous than he could imagine, and if Lucifer and demons were real, what other nightmares could be out there waiting to strike?

Artemis walked up to him and cupped her hand around his face. "Remember what you saw here today, Mr. Cunningham. It will come in handy."

"How?"

"Trust your instincts. Your mind sees more than your eyes."

He watched her return to the group and took another look at the open door. The choice was his. He could walk out and never have to worry about this again, but that wouldn't make him forget what he'd already experienced. He looked at the table and the people gathered around it. This was just a temp job; he'd only known these strangers for less than half a day, so why was he hesitating?

Martin reached out and grabbed the doorknob. It felt cool in his grip. One thing he knew for certain, someone was after Jezryall. Whoever it was meant business, and who was to say she would be the last target? He straightened his stance and pulled the door closed.

He strolled back into the meeting area and sat down at the table. Everyone was in the exact same place; even Barb's cup was still full. He stretched the tightness out of his back as he leaned into the chair.

Jezryall tilted her head to one side. "Did you find what you were looking for, Mr. Cunningham?"

"I'm not sure," Martin said, looking at each of them.

The Scot leaned on the table. "We are discussing how we should proceed with our investigation. What are your thoughts?"

Martin looked over at Artemis, and then at her brother. They were one of these Guardians of Man, and she led him into that room to help him understand. It was all up to him now. He closed his eyes and thought back to the last level of Hell and the pathetic look on Lucifer's face. The sympathy he felt for this creature washed over him.

"You all seem to think this is a horrible thing, and maybe it is, I don't know I'm new to all of this, but if it is, then don't we have a responsibility to try and find this person or persons?" He felt a warmth flow through him, a confidence he'd never felt before. "Their first attempt wasn't successful. They may try again, and an innocent person could end up paying the price."

"How do you know it will happen again?" the Scot asked.

"Because it was too easy for them to get that egg through customs. Who knows what other dangerous thing they will try to bring in next?"

"Next time," Daniel said, from the far end of the room. "It could be set loose on the public. Can't imagine what kind of panic that would bring."

The Scot leaned back in his chair. "Aye, and more headaches than we need."

Martin felt his stomach tighten as he looked over at Jezryall. "So, where do we begin?"

## Chapter Five

Martin took a quick glance at his watch. He'd done some pretty stupid things in his life; jumping off a steep ledge into a quarry pit full of water, driving home drunk, even eating whole goldfish because someone called him a wuss. That was stupid, but waiting to break into an embassy in the middle of the night topped the cake.

He shifted from foot to foot, rocking himself on the edge of the curb. He took a sideways glance at Barb. She seemed pretty comfortable standing there, waiting for their boss to arrive. Daniel, on the other hand, kept talking to himself and nodding. Martin scoffed. He was having a great conversation too. He'd said more to the air in the last ten minutes than to him all day.

Martin took another look at his watch. "I thought you said Jezryall and Aslin were going to meet us here?"

"They will," Barb said, keeping her focus on the Embassy. "Just be patient. It's not easy for her to bring him too."

Martin shook his head and turned away. He wasn't even going to ask.

"You do realize the Embassy probably has security cameras focused on us."

A smile appeared on her face. "They can watch us all they want. We're not doing anything wrong."

Martin let out a deep sigh. "Then why do I have this nagging feeling that we are?"

"Okay, okay," Daniel raised his hands as if he were trying to calm someone down. "Anything else?"

Martin shook his head. "Who's he talking to?"

Barb looked past him and at Daniel. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"

Of course. Why didn't he think of that? "Hey, who are you talking to?"

Daniel held up his index finger and spoke into the air. "Just a moment." He turned and faced them. "The old groundskeeper says the security cameras have a blind spot at the north-east corner of the property."

"How much of a blind spot?" Barb asked.

"Maybe a couple feet. Runs along a tree line almost up to the building. They don't think anything about it because the foot patrols usually go through that area at regular intervals."

Martin was confused. "You've been with us all day. When were you talking to the groundskeeper?"

"I still am," Daniel said, a wide grin on his face.

Barb leaned closer to Martin. "Daniel is a medium."

"A medium what?"

Daniel snickered.

"I mean he can hear and understand languages and things normal people can't."

"Like a translator?"

"Yeah, I guess," she said. "But with dead people and monsters and animals."

Martin raised his eyebrows. After everything else this day offered, knowledge of Daniel's ability didn't even faze him. "Animals? Really?" He turned to Daniel. "Maybe when we're done here we can go back to my place and you can have a nice chat with my neighbour's dog. Damn thing barks all night. Drives me nuts."

Daniel kept his gaze directed at the ground. "Probably doesn't like being left outside all night."

"Would you?"

"No, not really."

A strong wind blew down the street. It was cold and held a slight putrid smell of rotting eggs. The sensation sent a chill up Martin's spine and he shivered to shake off the feeling.

Barb and Daniel both looked up into the night sky.

"All right, people," Barb said, and stepped down off the curb. "Look smart. Here comes the boss."

Martin glanced down the street. "I don't see any cars coming."

Daniel shoved his hands into his front pockets. "Jezryall doesn't drive."

"Then why did Barb say she was coming?"

Timidly, Daniel pointed upward. Martin looked up just as a huge black cloud of smoke came into view against the starry sky. Martin tilted his head to one side. The smoke resembled pictures of winged dragons he'd seen in books, but dragons weren't real.

As it flew closer, Martin saw two red eyes glowing brightly. "What is that?"

"That is our boss," Barb called, from the other side of the street. "And she's about to land on the roof of the Embassy."

Artemis words echoed in his mind. _'Jezryall is special. She is a very rare creature'._

Daniel tugged on his jacket sleeve. "Come on, the groundskeeper will show us the blind spot."

Martin kept his gaze skyward as he stepped off the curb and followed Daniel. He knew there was something odd about his new boss. Was this her true form? Martin's stomach tightened as he watched it disappear over the rooftop of the Embassy. Dealing with flame fingers and zombies was one thing, but this was something else. Was she a creature from Hell? A place he knew to be very real.

He followed his co-workers along the length of a stone wall that encircled the property, pushing through some thick brush before coming to a chain-linked fence. The back yard of the embassy was quiet, with the only sound coming from a small creek that ran through the back yard. A stone walkway and gardens ran parallel to the creek, which emptied into a nearby lake. Daniel stopped by the lake edge and stared out over the water.

Even in the dim light, Martin could see his look of concern.

"Daniel, come on," Barb said. "We don't have much time!"

Daniel shook his head and ran to the corner of the chain fence. He pulled out a small vial from his jacket pocket and poured the contents onto the metal. A sweet metallic smell permeated the area as smoke rose from the fence. After a few moments, the smoke disappeared completely and Daniel motioned to Martin to grab one side. Martin pulled back on the fence until they created an opening wide enough for them to get through.

"Good job, guys." Barb smiled as she stepped through the opening.

The lot was overrun with weeds and unkempt gardens and lawns. A row of bushes lined a back walkway and they ran through the gardens and took cover in the shadows of the bushes, crouching low to keep from sight.

"The groundskeeper said he'll keep an eye out for the foot patrols," Daniel said.

Martin couldn't help but chuckle. "You're kidding!"

"No. He knows there's something going on and it's not right. I told him we may be able to stop it, so he's willing to help us."

Martin huffed. "That is so..."

"Cool?" Daniel asked.

"Weird, actually."

Barb shifted her position. "I don't care what it is, as long as he keeps us from being spotted."

"Don't go now," Daniel said. "There's a patrol coming around the corner."

They kept their heads low as two large security guards came around the corner of the building. Martin's heart pounded so hard he was sure the guards could hear. He inhaled through his nose and held his breath as they moved closer, hoping his special ability wasn't getting them caught.

It felt like hours for the guards to walk past. Martin was getting lightheaded from holding his breath for so long. They came close, so close that the scent of aftershave drifted through the bushes.

"OK," Daniel said once the guards had moved far enough away. "He says we have about ten minutes before the next patrol shows up. We need to get to that set of French doors on the back balcony."

Barb pulled out a small pair of binoculars from her coat pocket. "There's a security keypad on the doors. Does he know the password?"

Daniel stared off into the distance for a moment.

"No, he was never told it."

"Wouldn't matter anyway," Martin said. "They've probably changed codes by now."

Barb smiled at them. "Then I'll just scoot down the timeline!"

Martin's heart rate returned to normal as he stood in a crouched position behind the bush. The shadows did a good job of masking their presence as he watched the guards disappear around the other side of the building.

Daniel nodded to Barb, and she dashed across the walkway and up the steps of the balcony. A flash of movement from the rooftop caught Martin's attention. Looking up, he saw the silhouettes of the Scot and Jezryall standing at the edge. Daniel gave Martin a gentle nudge, and they both headed off to join Barb.

They raced up the cement stairs and crouched low on either side of the door. Barb was already in contact with the keypad, her eyes partially closed.

Martin scanned the grounds for any sign they may have been spotted. This had to be a Federal offence if they got caught. He checked his watch, following the second hand as it travelled halfway around the dial.

"Why is it taking her so long?" Martin asked.

"I don't know. Maybe it's a long timeline?"

Voices grew louder from one end of the building. Martin glanced at his watch, then at Daniel. "That was not ten minutes!"

"I know! I know!" Daniel tried to peek over the balcony. "The groundskeeper doesn't understand. There are usually two patrols ten minutes apart!"

"Usually?" Martin tried to keep his voice low, but the thought of spending time in a Federal penitentiary didn't sit well. "You'd think that if he's been hanging out here since his death, he would have known that they cut the patrol time!"

"Hey, leave him alone!" Daniel argued. "Do you have any idea how upsetting it is to be dead and still earth-bound?"

"Well I just might if we get caught!" Martin leaned closer to Barb. "Come on, beautiful, I know you can do it."

Barb's eyelids flickered and she blinked rapidly. "Got it!"

Martin grabbed her by the back of the neck and forced her down. The second patrol was feet from the steps of the balcony, too close for any of them to make a run for it.

Martin closed his eyes. He'd never been arrested before. It would be an interesting learning experience. At least until his parents got wind of it.

The sound of metal crashing to the ground came from the far side of the embassy. The two guards shouted in their native language as the raced down the walkway and around the corner. Barb forced herself out of Martin's grip and keyed in the code. With a click from the lock on the French doors, Barb jerked open the door and went inside.

Daniel pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "OK, we're in. You and Jezryall can come down."

Martin walked into the embassy behind Daniel. The room was dark, with some light filtering in from a few lights in the hall. A cloud of black smoke filled the doorway. Martin held his nose as the smell of rotten eggs filled the room. He watched in awe as the smoke whirled around and took the form of two humans.

The Scot appeared first and crumpled over. Martin dashed to his side and caught him before he hit the floor.

"Steady, big guy," Martin said, bracing himself. The Scot was heavier than he looked.

The Scot panted lightly and steadied himself. "Thank you."

Jezryall walked into the building and the door shut behind her. Martin caught a flash of crimson in her eyes. "Good work, everyone. With a little luck, we should be out of this building shortly."

Barb turned to Daniel. "Your friend said strange things were happening here? Did he say where?"

"No. He's not sure where."

"Then we will have to search the building one floor at a time," Jezryall said. She turned to Daniel. "Kindly ask your companion to lead the way, Mr. Livingston."

Daniel nodded and they walked out into the hall. Every room the passed looked as if it hadn't been used in a while. Some rooms had visible dust on the furniture. Still they heard no voices.

At the end of the hall, Daniel pointed to a set of doors. "Kitchen," he whispered. "But there's no one there."

Martin walked past and swung open one of the doors. "Where's the staff?"

"Groundskeeper says that's the weird thing. The entire building is empty."

"That's not right," Barb said, taking a few steps further down the corridor. "A building this important should be crawling with staff."

Daniel turned to the corner, shaking his head and mumbling. "He says three weeks ago staff started disappearing."

"Why didn't they call the police?" Martin asked.

Daniel paused. "Because they were disappearing _inside_ the building."

"Inside?"

"Yeah. They'd go into a room and not come out."

The Scot looked around and ran his hands along the walls. "There could be a portal of some kind hidden within the walls."

"Wouldn't that be kind of big to hide?" Martin asked.

The Scot looked at him briefly before continuing on down the hall. "Not if you know how to do it."

Jezryall crossed her arms. "No, if someone built a portal, we would have been alerted to its construction."

"Unless it was already here," Martin said. "Before the Embassy was built?"

"Nope." Barb shook her head. "We have a list of all inter-dimensional portals. Ancient or otherwise."

Martin turned to Daniel. "And your friend is positive no one is in the building, anywhere?"

Daniel shrugged. "As far as he knows. All the floors are empty."

"What about the cellar?" the Scot asked.

Daniel turned to then corner. "He doesn't go down there."

Martin frowned. "Why not?"

"It's too creepy."

"He's dead! What does he care?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Just because he's dead doesn't mean things don't bother him."

Jezryall smiled as she stepped over to Daniel. In this light, with that smile, she was so beautiful. "Would your friend be willing to check the cellar for us?" she asked.

Daniel looked at the corner, and then nodded.

"Most likely we will find what we are looking for in the cellar," the Scot said.

"Naturally," Martin sighed. "Because the weird, scary stuff always happens in the cellar."

Daniel took the lead and walked into the kitchen. It was dark and immediately Barb, Martin and Daniel took out their flashlights. Daniel led them to the other side of the room, stopping in front of a lone door.

Daniel turned to the group. "He says he can't go down there."

"Yeah? Well tell him to suck it up," Martin said. "He's dead. Nothing's going to hurt him."

"No, you don't understand. He _can't_ go down there. It's like something is blocking him."

"Blocked?" Barb became agitated. "What would block a ghost?

Daniel opened the door, and for a moment, Martin was half expecting to see some kind of force-field across the entrance. He was a little disappointed to see an ordinary set of stairs. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the basement. Boxes of supplies. The odd piece of broken furniture. Everything looked normal. Except for the stone archway at the far end of the room.

Martin shone a beam of light on the arch. "This doesn't look like it was part of the original building construction."

Aslin moved past him and took a good look at the stone, tracing the small markings with his finger. "This is a Spell of Concealment and Confinement." He turned to Jezryall. "Dark magic. I bet whoever built this is also behind everything else."

Barb walked over to the door and grabbed the handle. "So what are we waiting for?"

Martin grabbed her wrist. "Whoa, hang on a minute. Dark magic or not, you don't just go barging in. We don't know what's on the other side. It could be whoever set this up."

Daniel rummaged through the pockets of his coat and handed Martin and Barb each a small wax ball filled with green liquid. "Anything comes at you, throw that."

Martin looked at the globe and shook it. The liquid inside splashed up against the container. "What is it?"

"A knock-out potion," Barb said, rolling her globe around in her palm. "Nothing really dangerous, but you've got to throw it hard to break the wax open."

Martin nodded and positioned himself to throw his...weapon when Barb grabbed him by the arm.

"Oh, and don't get too close to the fumes."

Daniel readied his own globe. "It'll take down a bull elephant in his tracks."

Barb tightened her grip on the handle. "On the count of three. One...two..." She pulled hard on the door, throwing it open.

There was nothing on the other side of the door but a long stone corridor lit with candles. It reminded Martin of the short corridor under the occult shop. The fire disappeared from Aslin's hands. He raised one hand and waved it in front of the door, mumbling a few strange words. A white glow engulfed the entrance way.

"This will keep anyone from knowing we've crossed the threshold," he said, and created another palm-size fireball.

They followed the corridor down to the end. The smell of dirt and damp was strong. The mortar in between the stones looked new. Martin reached up and touched one of the limestone rocks. Residue coated his fingers and he rubbed his thumb along the pads of his fingertips.

"Yeah," he said, and wiped his hands on his pants. "This has been constructed recently. There's still residue on the walls." He caught the Scot and Jezryall exchanging a quick glance. It sent a shiver up his spine.

The corridor opened into a large stone room with a dirt floor. There was another stone archway that led to a second room adjacent to this one. Four large wrought iron cages sat along the far wall. They were large enough to hold several tall people. Next to them, three men and a woman were chained to the wall. Their shirts were ripped down the front and soaked in blood. Barb turned away and buried her face in Martin's shoulder, as Daniel walked over to one of the men.

"Are they dead?" Martin asked.

Daniel tilted his head to one side. "They should be." He reached up and pushed the torn garment to one side. Three arches of a circle had been sliced into the man's chest, connected by straight lines to a Rune symbol in the center.

Aslin walked up beside Daniel and inspected the other bodies. All of them had the same mark sliced into their chest.

Martin put his arm around Barb. "What happened to them?"

"They were sacrificed," the Scot said. "Their souls yanked from their afterlife and unnaturally bound to their corpse."

"With dark magic?"

Aslin nodded.

Barb looked at Martin. There were smudges of black under her eyes. "Zombies."

Martin clenched his jaw. For the first time today, he was angry. Really angry! Weird stuff or not, these people didn't deserve this fate. "How do we free them?"

For a moment, no one spoke. Martin could feel the uneasiness his question brought, and then the Scot looked directly at him.

"Either we break the spell that binds them, or we kill them ourselves."

Martin let go of Barb and started looking around for something that could be used as a weapon. "So what are we waiting for?"

Aslin grabbed him by the arm. "You do not understand, Mr. Cunningham. These people may look dead, but they can feel. If you hurt them, they will feel it!"

Martin was dumbfounded. "They can feel? I thought zombies didn't feel anything."

"Maybe in movies," Barb said, walking over to a young male victim. "But in real life, they're feeling creatures, trapped in a decomposing body and forced to do things against their will."

Martin's breath caught in his throat as a tear trickled down the pallid cheek of the young man. He walked over to another victim--a young woman, and searched her face. Her skin was grey and almost transparent, making the veins and arteries stand out that much more. He swallowed hard and moved a lock of hair away from her face.

"Then how do we break the spell?"

"By killing the one who created them." There was an almost satisfying tone to the Scot's voice.

Martin didn't look at him. "Why do I have a feeling that's not as easy as it sounds?"

Jezryall stepped up to the Scots side. "A person who wields this control over dark magic will be nearly impossible to defeat."

Martin turned to Daniel. "Did you bring anything that could kill this person?"

"No," Daniel said, looking disappointed. "I didn't think we'd be finding a nest. Besides, I don't think anything I have would be useful anyway." He turned to the Scot. "This is magic against magic."

"Come," Jezryall said, as she headed to the second room. "We will continue our search and gather as much information as we can." She stopped and faced the group, focusing on the Scot. "If need be, we will return with help to defeat this evil."

The second room was full of mud holes surrounded by Runes etched in stone. There were several large eggs coated in mud sitting near the center of each hole. Martin recognized the brilliant shimmer of the shells.

"Look at them all!" Barb said, and turned to her boss. "Maybe you weren't the only target?"

Jezryall hovered closer to the Scot and he wrapped one arm around her in a protective manner.

"Are there more like you?" Martin asked.

"No, Mr. Cunningham, I am unique."

Martin frowned and looked back at one of the mud pits. "Then why so many eggs?"

"It would appear whoever wished me dead, wanted to make sure the task would be completed."

The Scot motioned to Barb and Daniel. Immediately, both went to her side and stood between their boss and the pits, then he walked over to one of the mud holes.

"These must be destroyed." He mumbled words Martin remembered hearing back at the lab, and his fingertips ignited. Balls of green fire hurtle toward the mud, and soon all the pits were engulfed in a blaze of supernatural green flames.

"They're burning this time," Martin said as they walked toward another archway.

"They were not protected or fused."

Daniel slammed his hands over his ears and hurried past them. Martin was sure he saw him sniffle as he passed.

The second corridor was as musty smelling as the last, with small wisps of smoke and the smell of burning wood following them. It opened into a small room with three more stone archways.

"This place is becoming a maze," Barb said. "Now which way?"

Martin took out his flashlight and shone it down one of the paths, as the Scot brought out a compass from the pocket of his robe.

"This tunnel doesn't look finished," Martin said, flashing the beam straight up the center of a corridor.

The Scot turned to one of the tunnel entrances to the right. "We travel down this one."

"Why that one?" Martin asked.

"Because it faces east. All magic must be done facing east."

"What about the last one?" Barb pointed to the entrance straight ahead. "Shouldn't we check this one out too?"

"Agreed," Jezryall said. "Mr. Cunningham and I will travel down the west passage. The rest of you take the east."

Martin felt a little uncomfortable and Jezryall sauntered over to his side. He would be completely alone with her. What if she turned into that smoke-dragon thing again? Would she hurt him? What would he do? They walked in silence as Martin held out his flashlight, trying to keep his mind on the dusty walls instead of his boss.

"You seem to be handling this rather well." Jezryall's voice was soft and seductive. A tingle ran up his spine and he forced himself to think about something else.

"Handling what?" he said, touching the walls. "Breaking into a building or all the other stuff?"

"All the other stuff."

"Well, after what I saw in that chamber at your friend's place, I'm not sure what to believe anymore."

"You do not trust your eyes?"

"No, I know what I saw was real. I'm just having a hard time processing it all. I mean, when I got up this morning I didn't know any of this existed." He stopped and looked at her. His breath caught in his throat as shadows danced across her face. Martin turned away and stared down the corridor. "This is a lot to take in for one day."

Jezryall sighed. "I do regret that things have been thrown at you so suddenly. It is always easier to gradually introduce a new person to this world. You are handling this better than I expected. That says much about you."

Martin chuckled. "Yeah, but what?"

The flashlight lit up a wooden door at the end of the corridor. It was partially open and Martin motioned Jezryall to stand back. From the limited view, Martin could see a desk with one chair and an army cot, but he didn't hear any sounds. Gently, Martin pushed on the door, letting it swing open under its own weight. He exhaled as he saw the room was empty. Funny, he didn't remember holding his breath.

They walked into the empty room and look around. More than one desk lined the stone walls and there were papers scattered on one of the tables. Martin spied the papers the same time as Jezryall, and they both headed for the desk.

Martin picked up one of the sheets. "What is this stuff?"

"These are spells," she said, scanning the remaining pages. "Or at least, parts of spells."

Martin picked up another sheet. "Here's another partial." He held the two pieces of paper side by side. "Looks like they were trying to get the wording right."

Jezryall took both pages from him. "Magic is a very precise thing. You must understand, and be very particular with what you write. Otherwise it will fall apart."

Martin looked down over the other sheets on the table. "Looks like someone spent a lot of time and energy on just one spell."

Jezryall walked over to a pile of books on another desk. She picked up one of the smaller ones and flipped it open. "These are all dark spell books." She closed the book and placed it back down on the desk. "I would say we have found more than just a nest of zombies, Mr. Cunningham. We have found an established coven of dark magic."

Jezryall headed for the door. "Aslin and the others are in danger. There is no way the three of them can defend themselves if they are discovered."

Martin followed behind her but something caught his eye. It was a strange symbol on a small paperback book. Three elongated circles with an upside-down triangle in the center. He picked it up. Even the feel of it wasn't right.

He glanced over the cover. "The Dark Guild."

He took a quick look out into the corridor. Jezryall was already out of view. He looked down and flipped through the pages, and then closed the book and stuffed it in his coat pocket before heading out into the corridor.

***

Aslin didn't care for the confined space of the underground corridor. He was a man of the wide open skies and lush forest. Being underground was confining and if he needed to summon the elements, he had precious little space to do it in, or risk serious harm to his companions.

He walked ahead of the other two, keeping the incantation of the Ethereal Flames foremost in his mind. Should they be ambushed, he was better at a quick retaliation than them, especially as Daniel was still too overcome by grief at the death of those creatures.

Barb stopped. "Listen. Do you hear that?"

Aslin tilted his head. The sound of a male voice could just be heard from somewhere up ahead. The tone was low, even. The perfect tone for spell-casting.

Daniel walked up beside him. "That doesn't sound good."

"Someone is reciting an incantation," Aslin said, readying his fingers.

Cautiously, he took a few steps forward. They were coming to the end of the corridor. Aslin frowned. If they were entering a place of ritual, why weren't there more guards protecting the area? Firelight flickered on the wall just ahead of them as they walked up to the entrance of another room. Still no guards. Cautiously, Aslin peeked around the corner.

A large stone altar sat in the centre of the room with a young girl tied to it. There were two people chained to the wall on either side of the altar. Their mouths were gagged with material, with a large number of people standing around dressed in black robes.

Barb peeked around Aslin. "Over there, second from the altar," she whispered. "That's the guy I saw at the airport."

Aslin focused on one member who stepped up to the altar. The face was hidden under a heavy hood, but as words were spoken, a gruff male voice was distinguishable. A large serrated dagger appeared in his hands and was positioned over the girl's chest. He spoke words in the ancient language of magic, something Aslin remembered his grandfather reciting. How would a new coven have such knowledge?

"Ritual sacrifice," Aslin said. "A tell-tale sign of dark magic."

Barb looked up at him. "Can we do anything to stop them?"

Aslin didn't take his eyes off the ritual. "And what would you have us do, Miss Dole? Charge in and beat them up?"

"We can't just let them kill her! Can't you command the elements to do something?"

"There is only Earth and Fire in these corridors, and there is not enough room for either to work well together."

"But there's air down here, and—"

Aslin looked into her eyes. The firelight glimmered in the reflections of her tears. He shook his head slowly and pulled her back to the safety of the corridor wall.

"Even if we were to surprise them," Aslin began, "you and Daniel would be severely outnumbered. I could not help you. All my focus would be concentrated on their leader and trying to stop the ritual." He looked over at Daniel. "It would be impossible for you two to incapacitate everyone on your own."

Barb slumped forward. "But we have to do something!"

"I agree," Aslin said. "But we would be foolish to act so irrationally."

Daniel's eyes lit up. "Maybe we should go back and get Jezryall and Martin. She could take all the baddies out with one stroke."

"And the innocent as well. The demon side of her is inexperienced. It does not understand the concept of restraint."

A loud cheer raced through the stone corridor, followed the distinct sound of a knife slicing though flesh. Aslin closed his eyes and whispered an ancient Druid prayer for the young woman.

"Come," he said, reaching for Barb. "Let us re-group with Jezryall and Martin."

Barb stiffened under Aslin's touch, and pulled away when Daniel reached out to her. Her aura glowed a deep red of pain and sorrow. Aslin looked over at Daniel, who sighed and followed behind her.

***

Martin felt uneasy as they walked down the dark corridor. The symbol on that book was etched in his mind. Something about it was vaguely familiar and he raced through his memories trying to figure out where he'd seen it before. He was more than relieved to meet up with the others at the end of the entrance.

"Hey," he said as Barb walked toward them. "Did you guys find anything?"

Barb didn't reply as she walked past toward the egg chamber. Martin noticed right away her nose and eyes were red and swollen.

"Barb?"

Martin didn't hear Jezryall walk up behind him. He jumped as she laid her hand on his shoulder.

"Leave her alone, Mr. Cunningham," the Scot said, as he and Daniel came into view. "Today is not a good day for her."

"What happened?" Jezryall asked as Daniel passed them and walked into the next chamber.

"There is an altar room at the end of this corridor," Aslin said. "They were sacrificing a young woman when we came upon them." He looked mournfully at Jezryall. "There was nothing we could do."

Martin couldn't believe what he heard. "They killed someone? Right now?"

"Just a few moments ago. Most likely a member of the Embassy staff."

Jezryall stepped away, toward the far corridor and sniffed the air. "Do you know to whom they made the sacrifice to?"

Aslin shook his head. "No, Mistress. We came upon it just at the end."

Martin ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "We need to shut these people down. Before they kill anyone else!"

"There are two people, alive and chained to the walls. I fear for their safety if we do nothing." Aslin stepped in front of Jezryall. "We may not have time to summon Rowan, Mistress."

Jezryall's body began to mist over in black smoke as the smell of rotten eggs grew stronger. She turned her head slightly to one side, just enough for Martin to see the crimson glow. "Then we do as Mr. Cunningham suggested, and we shut them down now!"

## Chapter Six

Martin stood next to Jezryall, his arms crossed and listening intently to the conversation. Well, he was listening, but most of what she said went in one ear and out the other. He couldn't focus on their plan when his boss's eyes flashed crimson each time the Scot suggested who she should 'deal with'. The words 'deal with' being a rather subjective phrase at the moment. He also decided that standing outside the Embassy in the middle of the night, waiting to break in, no longer topped his list of stupid things. Planning to attack a group of people who had sharp daggers and zombies, while all they had was a Druid with flaming fingers, a timid medium, and a psychic in stilettos, was, in fact miles above the whole Embassy thing. He was relieved to see Barb and Daniel emerge from the egg chamber and re-join them.

"Good, you are back," Jezryall said, her eyes completely crimson. "We are going to need you."

Barb hesitated. "Have a plan, do we?"

Jezryall flashed a wicked smile as she placed her hand on Barb's shoulder. "One that I think should quench your thirst for their blood."

Barb's face scrunched up. "Um...ew."

Martin tried not to laugh at the look on her face. "So what's the plan?"

***

Daniel slowly walked toward the entrance way to the ritual chamber.

This isn't a plan! This is suicide!

Why did he say he would be the one to come down here? Why didn't he let the new guy be the bait? His heart raced with each step he took. There was no way out of it now. He had to go through with it. He hoped the others were ready. They were only going to have one shot at this.

He walked out and stood in the stone archway. The body on the altar was still there, but everyone was standing around looking at it. There was an old man standing at the altar with a dagger. Daniel could hear the blade tearing into her flesh, and his stomach churned as he tried to open is mouth.

Too many people!

His head throbbed and the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears. He closed his eyes as his body began to tremble. Why did he say he would do this?

" _Please! Help me!"_

Daniel's eyes snapped open. Several feet away, the soul of the young woman from the altar floated a few inches off the ground. He felt a wave of pain slam against his body, and his chest felt like it was on fire. His breath caught in his throat as her silhouette stretched and contorted toward the altar. They were binding her soul to her body.

A squawking noise replaced his voice as he tried to get their attention. "So this is where the party is?"

Everyone turned and the old man pointed the bloody tip of the blade at him. "Capture him!"

" _Run! Run!"_

Daniel's fear kicked into overdrive and he took off into the darkness of the corridor. He stumbled over his feet, falling against the stone wall before catching himself. His fear didn't give him a chance to rest, and he propelled himself down the tunnel.

He ran past Jezryall and Aslin, stopping briefly at the entrance of the egg chamber. Jezryall's head snapped to one side, her eyes wild, and he could hear the demon inside her forcing its way out. He took a few steps backward, transfixed on her eyes. So mesmerizing in their colour and the way the pulsed with life...

A ball of fire exploded at his feet.

"Go! Now!" Aslin shouted, as another one formed in his hand.

He turned and stumbled again, falling to his hands and knees. He felt a strong grip on his arm and looked up to see Martin's worried face.

Daniel forced himself to his feet. His heart leapt into his throat as they scampered through the mud to the far side of room. Only when he felt the cold stone archway that led into the cage room did he feel somewhat relieved. He saw Martin hide behind the wall, and scurried beside the archway, forcing himself as close as he could into the corner.

The smell of brimstone was overpowering as the air sucked toward the corridors. The flames from the candles disappeared, plunging the room into darkness. Daniel covered his ears as shouts turned into screams, watching the shadows of victims contort as fireballs light up the adjacent chamber.

Then everything went quiet.

Daniel's hands trembled as he lowered them from his face. An ethereal glow grew brighter as, one by one, white silhouettes of people floated past him and toward the exiting corridor. Daniel lowered his hands as the souls bounced against an invisible barrier, unable to leave the room. Tears clouded his vision as they wandered around in circles, blank looks on their faces. They looked so lost and alone.

Aslin tapped him on the shoulder and held out his hand. Daniel took a deep breath as he got to his feet. The Druid was strong, but he looked tired as he rested against the archway. Daniel looked into Aslin's brown eyes and brushed some of his hair out of his face. In this light, he was intoxicatingly beautiful.

Daniel shook his thoughts from his mind. "You have to take the barrier down. They're trapped."

"Later," Aslin said, and straightened up. "We need to finish this."

Daniel noticed Jezryall lying in the mud a few feet away, wisps of black smoke trailing off from her body. Her breath came in erratic gasps as she tried to force herself to stand. Martin came out from behind the wall and went to her side.

"Don't touch her!" Daniel said, reaching for his arm.

Martin wrenched his arm free and glared at him. "She's hurt, you idiot!"

His look of contempt made Daniel feel worthless. Just like when he was a kid and they made fun of him. Daniel swallowed and turned away.

"Daniel is not an idiot," Aslin said, walking past them. "You do not touch her when she trails the ethereal smoke from Hell."

Daniel gave a curt smile as he shuffled over to Jezryall's side. "I think you pushed yourself too far, Mistress," he said, watching her struggle.

"It...was...necessary." Her words were strained as she panted against the ground.

"You rest, Mistress," Aslin said, and ignited another fireball. "We will take care of the stragglers."

Jezryall looked up. " _Spasibo tebe, moi? drug_." She closed her eyes and laid her head down on the ground.

Martin knelt down beside her. Her breathing was shallow. "What did she say? Is she going to be all right?"

"She just needs to rest," Aslin said.

Footsteps came toward them as the old man and three followers raced into the room. A grizzly sneer appeared on the old man when he noticed Jezryall lying on the ground. Aslin moved between them and Jezryall as Daniel stood at one side and Martin on the other. Daniel put his hands in his pockets and gripped a wax ball between his fingers. He turned his head and carefully pulled it out.

"What an unexpected surprise." The raspy voice of old man sent a chill up Daniel's spine. "It seems we won't have to use the other creatures to kill you after all."

Aslin took a defensive posture. "So you are trying to kill her?"

He glared at the Druid. "Just her human side."

The old man was fast and raised his hands, creating two fireballs, and sent them hurtling forward, but Aslin was faster and cast a white sphere around the group, protecting them as the flames wrapped around the shield. The two followers dashed forward, but bounced off the invisible barrier and fell to the ground.

Martin snorted as they scrambled back to their feet. "Idiots."

Daniel stepped up behind Aslin. Aslin's jaw clenched and relaxed as he struggled to keep the protective barrier up, as more fireballs exploded against the sphere. Daniel gripped his wax globe in his hand and put his arms behind his back.

Aslin turned his head slightly. "Get down."

Both Daniel and Martin crouched as the old man sent two more fireballs toward them, but this time, Aslin threw the protective barrier forward and the two spells impacted, exploding in a brilliant blast. Daniel covered his head as the Druid was thrown back onto the stone wall, and fell to a heap on the ground.

Quickly Daniel stood and nodded to Martin. "Now!"

They threw the potions at the followers. The spheres broke apart at their feet and green smoke rose from the remains, quickly overcoming them. They gasped for air and coughed as they struggled to stay on their feet. The leader waved frantically at the smoke, trying to keep the noxious substance away from his body.

Fire hurled past Daniel's head as two of Aslin's fireballs whizzed past. With one hand, the old man brushed them away, swatting one toward Martin.

Aslin's voice boomed in the confined space. "MOVE!"

Daniel saw the fear in Martin's eyes and leapt toward him. White hot pain seared through his body as he was engulfed in a white fire. He grabbed a hold of Martin's arms and fell to his knees. Looking up into his face, Daniel smiled as Martin cradled his body, a look of remorse on his colleague's face.

At least the new guy wasn't mad at him anymore.

***

A quick gasp for air and Barb drew herself back from her trance. She dropped the book on the table and blinked a few times, allowing her mind to adjust to the normal surroundings of the room. Using her ability sometimes made it hard for her to focus once she drew herself back, and yeah, she _should_ be using it more, but Aslin's instructions were just too tedious. Why couldn't she just use them every now and then and call that practice?

She picked up another book and stared at the spine. These things were a goldmine of information, but there was so much here. It would take her weeks, if not months, to travel the timeline of all of them, but if what she saw in the timeline of just one was true, they were going to need details.

She took a deep breath and smoothed back a few strands of hair. Jezryall will want everything taken back, so she better start dividing them up for transport. She looked down at her designer boots. A thin layer of dirt covered the tip and up the heel. She bent one leg and wiped off some of the dirt with her hand, then rubbed her hand on her jacket. The sooner she got out of this place, the better. This place was a mess and wasn't doing her hair or her boots any good.

The candles in the room flickered as the air raced out under the door. She tensed as frightened screams and yells echoed down the corridor. A chill ran up her spine. As much as she cared for her boss, the whole demon thing scared the hell out of her. She trusted Jezryall to keep it under wraps, but she feared one day the Boss Lady would let it slip.

He better be around when that happens!

Then everything was quiet. Barb lowered her head as she whispered a small prayer.

She looked down at the books and papers in front of her. Well, that was that. The battle was short and sweet. Might as well start piling all this stuff in boxes. She took out her cell and called the office.

"Hi, Lizzy, it's me. Get a hold of Lucian and tell him to put together a Level Two evac team, and send them to the Russian Embassy." She picked up a sheet of paper and gave it a quick glance. "No, nothing dangerous. Mostly documents, books, that sort of thing. Tell him to come when they're ready, and be quiet about it. I want to be out of here with as little publicity as possible."

The door to the room burst open and a strong gust of wind hit Barb dead on. Dust blew up in her face, but it was the strong odour of rotting flesh that irritated her eyes and she closed them and turned her head away. Her eyes snapped open when she heard someone run in. An old man dressed in the tackiest black robe she'd ever seen, darted into the room. He was a wrinkled, ugly thing, and Barb was pretty sure the rotting flesh smell was coming from him. She took a good look at his face as he ran past, and her eyes grew wide.

"Hey! I've seen you before!"

Shadows danced across his face as he glared at her, and Barb wished she'd kept her mouth shut. A scowl formed on his lips as he summoned a fireball and sent it hurdling toward her. She threw herself to the floor as the ball hit the table and engulfed a small portion of the area around her. She felt the heat of the flames lick her hands and face as the force of the impact threw her back against the wall.

Her head slammed against the stone wall sending paralyzing bolts of pains racing through her body. She could barely focus as she tried to crawl to a safe place. She saw the old man wave his hand along the wall in front of him. Like a curtain drawing back, an opening appeared with stairs. Running footsteps from the corridor came closer and the old man formed another fireball and paused at the foot of the stairs.

Barb shifted her focus to the corridor and saw Martin running toward her. She grabbed the closest object and hurled it at the old man.

"Martin, look out!"

The object struck the old man on the calf, and it was enough to distract him from Martin's approach. He shifted his attention from the door back to her.

A wax ball went flying across the room, landing a few feet up the staircase. The globe burst on impact and the old man released the fireball at it, disintegrating it and its contents.

Martin hid behind the partially open door, several more globes in his hand. "I got a whole pile of those babies right here, old man," he said, holding up his hand. "You might be able to duck out one or two, but what about four or five?"

The old man snarled and headed up the stairs.

"He's gone!" Barb said, and tried to stand. "Ran up the stairs."

Martin darted into the room and over to her side. "Are you all right?"

She took a hold of his arm and pulled herself up to her feet, rubbing the back of her head. "I'm fine--just go after him. He's the key to all of this!"

Martin nodded and headed toward the stairs. "Get back to Aslin. Jezryall is down and Daniel is hurt bad."

Barb's heart leapt into her throat. "Oh my God!"

***

Martin raced up the stairs, close on the heels of the old man. He couldn't let this waste of skin get away. This asshole was going to pay for what he did to Daniel and all those other people. He got to the top of the stairs and the cool evening air brushed his face. Martin caught a glimpse of a black robe dart through the trees, and took off across the yard. The old man was fast, but Martin had no problem catching up and was a few yards behind him by the time they reached the chain link fence.

Martin raised his hand to throw the small wax balls still in his hand. "Gotcha, asshole! You've got nowhere to go!"

The old man whipped around and scowled at him. He held out his arms and raised his head skyward, shouting into the night.

" _Vernula of Lugh! EGO to order thee_!"

The dark shadows from the trees reached out and grabbed the old man by the arms, lifting him into the air and over the fence. Martin dove for the old man but slammed into the chain fence at full force. He jumped using, the fence as leverage, and tried to grab a hold of his robe. Martin shook the fence as the old man landed safely on the other side. This wasn't fair! Why didn't he have some kind of supernatural ability? Something relevant to the moment—like stretchable arms?

Martin dashed down the length of the fence to the opening Daniel made earlier, and headed off toward the water. The crescent moon reflected on the calm lake, but Martin thought he saw a ripple from just off shore.

***

Aslin raced up the hidden staircase and out into the night. This was not what he desired, but if young Daniel was right, he needed to stop their new employee before the fool got himself killed. He spotted Martin duck through the fencing and race through the underbrush on the other side. With a deep breath, Aslin headed across the back yard of the Embassy.

With a wave of his hand, the underbrush and branches parted as he ran to the shoreline. Good thing, as this running was taxing his energy. He stopped by the edge of the water to catch his breath, watching the two run down the shore. A ripple in the water caught his attention and he took a step back, concealing himself within the shadow of a large tree.

The sound of a branch snapping made him look back, as Daniel tumbled through the underbrush toward him.

"Did you tell him?" Daniel asked, breathing heavily as he leaned against the tree.

"You should not be out here. Your body needs to heal."

"I'm fine, but they won't be unless you stop them."

Aslin faced the shoreline as Martin's ambiguous shouts echoed across the lake.

Daniel stood next to him. "You have to bring them back here."

"I believe that would be highly impossible at this point."

"Aslin, you have to do something before it finds them!"

Aslin looked down at the young man. In the few years they had known one another, he'd never seen Daniel take to a newcomer so quickly. Perhaps Barbara was right about their new employee. He looked back out at the lake as a trail of bubbles raced toward the shore.

Daniel took a few steps forward but Aslin reached out and grabbed him, dragging him back into the shadows. "I'm afraid it's too late for that."

The young man jerked his arm free and ran a few feet down the shore. "It's their footsteps. It's amplified underwater! It'll lead it straight to them!"

Aslin watched as the trail of bubbles quickly descended on to the shore. He had to think of something quick to protect them, but the battle inside drained much of his energy--too much--and any protection spell would be useless. His mind raced with possible alternatives as the trail of bubbles came closer to the shore.

"Aslin! Please!" Daniel's sorrowful plea cut through him like a dagger. "Make Martin stop running!"

Aslin raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Is that all?"

He held up his hand to the water and then closed his fingers one by one into a fist. From the water, seaweed and other aquatic plants burst out and wrapped themselves around Martin, bringing him to a halt. The sudden stop caused Martin to fall forward onto his back on the pebble shore.

Daniel tilted his head to one side. "Well, at least he stopped."

***

Martin swore softly as he struggled against the confinement of the seaweed. What the hell was this anyway? Since when did seaweed attack? He was wrapped tighter than Thomas in the mail room. He lifted his head and was shocked to notice Daniel standing near the water, with the Scot a few feet behind. He smiled and let out a joyful shout, even though the Scot had a rather satisfied look on his face. This seaweed thing _had_ to be his doing.

Martin frowned as both Daniel and the Scot crouched low to the ground, and it looked like Daniel was mouthing words to him.

"What?" Martin shifted in his restraints. "I can't hear you! Why are you standing there? Come and get me outta this!"

Daniel motioned him to be quiet. "Don't move!"

Martin lay his head down on the ground. Yeah, like he could move. What were they waiting for? The smell of rotting flesh crept over him and he swallowed a few times to keep from vomiting. He looked up, and saw the wrinkled face of the old man looking down at him. A maniacal smile came to his lips.

"Your friends are too scared to come after me." His breath came in shallow breaths between words, as he pulled out a dagger. "Too bad for them. Your blood will be on their hands."

He watched the blade of the knife as it rose over the old man's head. His heart racing, Martin lifted his head again and looked back at his co-workers.

Why are they just sitting there?

Frantic, he rocked back and forth, hoping the vines would loosen, but it only made it worse and the constriction was now making it hard to breathe. The small gasps of air were tinted with the overpowering stench as the old man got down on his knees next to him, chanting in some foreign language over and over again. The dagger still over his head. Martin's eyes went wide as a small black cloud began to form several feet above them, churning like a murky whirlpool. He lifted his head and looked down the shore, but Daniel and the Scot stayed where they were.

With a loud splash, the water exploded several yards off shore, and Martin saw the shadow of something big fall over them. He looked up—and into the one big eye of a very large creature. It's mouth open and quickly lowering toward them. Martin let out a scream and violently struggled on the shore as the creature descended overtop of them. He closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for the inevitable, excruciating pain.

He heard the old man scream and Martin felt a slight breeze as something brushed past his face. He opened his eyes and watched as the creature leaned his head back and the torso of the old man tumbled into its open mouth. Martin froze as the sound of bones grinding against the razor sharp teeth filled his ears, and bits of carcass dropped from the creature's mouth. It looked at Martin with its one eye, then slowly slithered back into the water and disappeared into the lake.

Adrenaline raced through Martin's veins as a trail of bubbles moved away from the shore and out into the blackness of the water. He felt numb, lightheaded, and giddy all at the same time. Not even when Daniel knelt down beside him did his feelings change, and as the seaweed around him loosened and fell away, his body began to tremble.

"How ironic," Daniel said, looking out over the lake. "To be killed by your own creation."

Martin sat up and slowly faced the young man. "Wait, are you telling me that was--"

"The Brosnie? Yeah."

The Scot walked up to him with his hands on his hips. "You'd better call Lucian and change the Level Two evac, to a Level Three."

Daniel nodded and stood up, pulling his cell phone out from his pocket. He placed the phone up to his ear and stepped off to the side.

Martin sat on the ground. His legs felt weak and he wasn't sure if he could move them. Slowly his heart rate returned to normal, but it didn't stop his body from trembling.

"Are you all right, Mr. Cunningham?" the Scot asked.

Martin slowly shifted his gaze to the older man. "I'm not sure."

"A piece of advice for the future." He held out his hand and motioned Martin to take hold. "Next time Mr. Livingston instructs you not to move, please do so. Our advice and actions may seem odd, but trust us. We know what we're doing."

Martin grabbed the Scot's hand and pulled himself to his feet. The night air was cool against his skin as his body radiated heat from the adrenaline. "What makes you think there'll be a next time?" he asked, as the winds picked up.

The Scot smiled. "There is always a next time."

Martin heard a low rumbling coming from the direction of the Embassy, and noticed a small black cloud forming over the roof. It grew quickly as it sucked in more air and with it, branches and other pieces of debris.

"What is that?" Martin said, pointing to the building.

"A portal," the Scot said as the vortex formed over the roof. "And it's large enough to pull the entire building into it!"

***

This was too long of a night for Jezryall. Her body ached from the battle and the urge to transform was strong. Everywhere she went the smell of blood and death greeted her. For all the work she did to save these humans, at this moment, she had no qualms about taking their lives.

This thought bothered her greatly.

She walked alongside Barbara into the ritual chamber. The scent of blood and death was powerful and she made her breath shallow to avoid inhaling the intoxicating scent. Their work here would be finished soon, and she focused on the release her ethereal form would bring.

Barbara hurried to the young man chained to the wall.

"Who are you people?" he asked after Barb removed the gag. Jezryall caught his scent of fear.

Barb smiled as she scanned the area for the key. "Let's just say we know what's going on, and we're here to help."

The key rested on a small table at the back of the room. Barb grabbed it and headed toward the captives. Jezryall focused on her secretary, watched as the young woman's aura appeared before her. Bright colours radiated around her, and Jezryall smiled. It was good to see her happy again.

Jezryall stepped up to the altar and looked down at the pallid face of the dead girl. "The people in robes who were here, did you know any of them?"

The young man rubbed his wrists as he moved away from the wall. "Just one. A young man by the name of Rocco. He was our new groundskeeper after Clement died. He showed up and then all sorts of strange things started to happen."

Barb pulled the gag out of the woman's mouth, unlocked her restraints and then walked up and stood in front of the male zombie. She tilted her head from one side to the other.

"I wouldn't get too close to him," the young man said. "Don't ask me how, but he's not dead."

Barb looked back at him. "I know."

The young woman walked over to the man's side. "Can we leave? Please?" Fear was even stronger on her and Jezryall fought back the urge to strike.

"No." Jezryall turned away. "Not just yet. We are making sure it is safe before we allow you to leave."

The young man walked over to the dead girl on the altar, then looked back at Jezryall. "They didn't ask for money or anything. They just started killing everyone." He brushed away some of her hair from her face. "Why did they do this?"

Jezryall sighed. "That is what we would like to know as well."

Small sparks began to leap off the body on the altar and the zombie, as the candles on the walls flicker. The sparks snapped and sizzled as a strong wind blew through the chamber, churning up dirt and throwing small pieces of furniture around. The room grew dark and Jezryall's urge to become ethereal intensified. Her demon eyesight dominated her view as everything around her turned a dark red. Moving within the gusts, dark shapeless forms, quick as the wind itself, rode the air currents around the room, touching items and turning them to dust.

"What's happening?" the girl yelled as she gripped the young man tighter.

Jezryall glanced at Barb. "Stay still. All of you. It will not hurt you."

The wind grew stronger, picking up dust and debris as it forced itself out through the exit and down the stone corridor. When the winds calmed, all evidence of the ritual were gone. Turned to dust and taken away with the wind.

Barbara walked to Jezryall's side. "I don't want to know, do I?"

Jezryall shook her head.

Chains rattled as the zombies fixed to the wall began to rapidly decompose and fall into heaps of bones on the floor. Through her demon eyes, Jezryall saw the souls of the dead Embassy workers shimmer a pale blue and float by the altar. They nodded and smiled, then floated upward and vanished. Jezryall smiled. Martin would be pleased to learn they had been set free.

The humans stood by the altar, mouths slightly open, and their eyes wide.

"Everything's gone," the young man said. "No one is going to believe us when we tell them what happened."

Barb walked over to him and gently placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "We will."

***

Martin strolled across the Embassy property, still trying to digest his brush at almost becoming a midnight snack. Why didn't it eat him too? Was it because of what the Scot did? Did Daniel say something to it? Was Jezryall influencing it? He just didn't know. Nothing about this day made any sense to him. Not their trip to see the Gemini, the airport, this place, but everything happened. It wasn't a dream. Those people were really dead. Killed by some crazy old man. That, Martin understood even less.

Barb and Jezryall stepped down off the steps of the back balcony. Barb walked over to Martin and put her hand on his shoulder.

"How are you doing?"

Martin smiled weakly. "This has been an interesting day."

Barb rubbed his shoulders. "And then some."

He looked into her eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Does this happen all the time?"

Barb looked over at their boss. "What? The fighting and stuff?"

"Yeah."

She exhaled deeply and pursed her lips. "Sometimes. People don't know what's out there, and occasionally, they get into trouble."

He looked at Jezryall. "Is this what you meant when you said you dealt with 'unusual situations'?"

Jezryall nodded. "Yet I believe today was more unusual than normal."

Aslin turned to Jezryall. "Once Lucian has returned with the contents of the Embassy, I will dispose of all the dark magical items."

"No need," Jezryall said. "That has already been taken care of."

The Scot frowned. "How?"

"I will discuss it with you later."

Aslin exhaled. "That is unfortunate. These were dangerous people. I would like to have known just how deep their connection to Dark magic was."

Martin put his hand inside his jacket. "Hey! I forgot about this." He pulled out the small book from his pocket and handed it to the Scot. "I scooped this up earlier. Was going to give it to you later on when we were done here."

The look on the Scot's face was priceless. Martin was pretty sure he wasn't expecting him to be so forward thinking.

Jezryall smiled. "Good work, Mr. Cunningham. You are thinking like one us. That is a good sign."

"A good sign?"

"For us!" Barb said, and intertwined her arm with his. "If you're starting to think like we do, then maybe you'll want to stay on."

"I don't know yet. This whole setup is still kinda weird."

Martin looked past everyone and to the small group of embassy people standing with the patrol guards. "What about them?"

"They'll be fine," Barb said, leading him to the side of the building. "I'll have Lucian arrange for them to get counseling."

"Counseling?" Martin couldn't contain his laugh. "I think they're going to need more than that. Maybe a memory wipe or something."

Barb gave a cute laugh. "Maybe, but in the meantime, I believe there is one more job you need to do."

Martin gave her a sarcastic look. "You mean I'm not done yet?"

Barb pointed him toward the street. Martin's mouth fell open as he saw several police officers standing outside the gate. The flashing red and blue lights of several cars bounced off the building.

"What are they doing here?"

"Well, apparently they were called because one of the Embassy neighbours reported a crazy person running around the Embassy property yelling threatening obscenities."

Martin rolled his eyes as his head fell back.

Barb pushed him toward the gate.

"But I don't know what I'm supposed to say?"

Barb's cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket. She was quiet for a moment, and then snapped it closed. "Lucian says his extraction team will be here in about twenty minutes."

Martin shook his head, confused. "So?"

"So you have twenty minutes to think up a good cover story to explain all the equipment that is about to show up." She motioned Martin toward the street. "And you better make it a good one too. There's a Channel Six news crew van out on the street too."

Martin slumped forward. "Got any good ideas?"

"No, but try not making it sound too crazy. After all, Terin Global is a well-respected corporation."

She patted him on the back and then turned and walked away.

Martin smiled as he watched her disappear around the corner of the building. Maybe working for Terin Global wouldn't be as overwhelming of a job as he thought. It was damn exciting, that's for sure, and he did like the idea of saving innocent people from evil creatures. How many jobs boasted a knight in shining armour privilege?

Martin straightened out his clothing, brushed off any excess dirt and debris and walked toward the flashing lights. The new Public Liaison Officer for Terin Global had one more job to do tonight.

~ Fin ~
Excerpt from book two; Under the Cover of Wicca.

"That was a very interesting handbook you found," the Scot said, leafing through the book.

"Really?" Martin forced himself to stare at the flat screen. "How so?"

"It gives a very intimate look at their world. Who they were. What they believed in."

Barb sat on the armrest next to him. "That group was mostly henchmen. There to recruit more into their coven."

"Henchmen?" Martin grinned. "That sounds rather diabolical?"

Barb stood up. "You have no idea."

Martin frowned. "Why do I have a feeling this isn't the first time you've come across them?"

The Scot closed the book and walked back to his desk. "A few years back a magical sect was operating in the area. Their numbers consisted mostly of disgruntled men and women, angry at the world for one reason or another." He picked up a pamphlet off his desk. Martin caught a glimpse of the emblem on the front and a shiver ran up his spine. "Their leader was a twisted, evil person who bargained away his soul for power. We—" Aslin motioned to Barb and Daniel. "—along with our allies, destroyed him and his coven."

"So if you destroyed them, who were those guys at the embassy?"

"New followers," Daniel said.

"Very new." The Scot nodded in agreement. "Untrained in the ways of magic, and playing with forces they didn't understand."

Martin put his cup down on the table. "Sure looked like they knew what they were doing to me."

Aslin turned around. "Because of their leader."

"I thought you said you destroyed him?"

"We did." Barb swallowed hard before continuing. "But someone brought him back."

A chill ran up Martin's spine. "Back from where? The dead?"

Martin caught a flash of panic from Daniel as the young man glanced over at the Scot. "From hell."

Barb nodded. "He must have left instructions to resurrect him, should he be killed."

Martin picked up his coffee, sat back into the chair and watched the flat screen. First zombies, now evil magical leaders from hell. "Well I'd like to see them resurrect him from the stomach of the Brosnie. Now that would be magic."

Martin didn't mean to make fun, but the tension was just a bit heavy and he felt he had to say something to lighten the mood. At least for Barb's sake. He didn't care what she said. Something told him this whole ordeal was taking a harder toll on her than she let on.

The news broadcast continued and revealed more information about what happened in the cemetery. The room grew eerily still as the details mimicked the events that took place in the cellar of the Embassy.

"Is it me--" Martin shifted in his seat. "--or does that sound like the exact same thing we just dealt with?"

Barb shot a concerned look at the Scot. "I thought you said Jezryall got all of them."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I believed she did."

Daniel stood up and walked behind the couch, hands shoved into the pockets of his track pants. "There was more than one dark coven?"

"Impossible," the Scot said. "He would not have had time to create more than one coven in the time since..."

Martin sat up. "Wait, are you saying there could be more of these dark magic people?"

The Scot took a deep breath. "It appears so."

He watched as Daniel paced back and forth behind the couch. "We have to stop them before they kill another innocent person or mount another attack on Jezryall."

"Who is going to attack me?"

Martin jumped at the sound of her voice. He hit the table and splashed some of the coffee out of his cup. He muttered a string of swear words as the Scot motioned to the flat screen.

"It appears our new friends from the Embassy were more numerous than we thought."

The image of the young girl's legs flashed on the screen again.

"We have to talk to her," Barb said. "Find out if she's one of them, and if so what they're up to."

Daniel ran one hand along his dreadlocks. "Couldn't this just be a coincidence? I mean, how do we know she's part of the same group? The media did talk to some of the embassy staff. Couldn't she just be a copycat or something?"

"Do you want to take that chance?" Barb snapped.

Daniel shook his head.

"Neither would I," the Scot said. "As inept as the coven was, they had access to powerful magic, and that makes them dangerous."

Jezryall floated over to stand behind the couch. She laid her hand on Barb's shoulder. "Barbara, call the garage and prepare one of the company vehicles."

Barb sniffed as she stood up. "Where should I tell them we're going?"

"I would like you and Mr. Cunningham to speak with this young woman at the police station."

"If we can." Martin tried to wipe up some of the spilt liquid with the sleeve of his shirt. "The cops won't let just anyone talk to her. Not while she's part of an ongoing investigation."

Jezryall held up a finger. "Then inform the legal department that they have a new client."

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