Chapter Five

Five

Renee fumbled for her phone, sleep fogging her brain and slowing her fingers. It wasn’t until her phone hit the tile floor that she realized it wasn’t ringing, but that someone was knocking on her door.

“Crap on a cracker,” she whispered, blankets shifting to let in a draft of cooler air as she leaned to find her phone. The muffled thumping continued. Fingers searching, she got a hold of the slippery plastic, falling back against her pillow as she looked at it. Six thirty? she thought, grumpy. If she was under house arrest, shouldn’t she be able to sleep as long as she wanted?

“Give me a minute!” Renee sat up, then frowned at the head-size indent on the unused pillow beside hers.

“Renee?” came a faint voice from the other side of the door. “I need to talk to you. I brought doughnuts.”

Tired, she put her elbows on her knees and stared at the floor. “Ooooh, doughnuts,” she muttered sarcastically, but her frown deepened as she felt the divot. It was warm. A faint scent of herbs lingered, and she brought the pillow to her nose, taking a long sniff. Her eyes widened at the distinctive scent. Yep. That Nextdoor snake had been here. “But you’re not here now,” she whispered as she scanned her room to find it empty of wings and tail.

“Renee?” Jackson called again, and she stood, wincing at the cool tile.

“I’m not dressed. Give me a sec!” she yelled as she padded into the small bathroom and tugged her robe on. “What did Gorman do now?” she muttered as she caught sight of herself in the mirror and sighed. It is what it is…

Slumped, she tied her robe shut and returned to the tiny room, cluttered as it tried to be a bedroom and office both. Papers, books, and research materials were stacked everywhere, almost hiding the desk and matching blah-brown chair. Welcome to my mess, Jackson. I hope you brought something to sit on.

And then she jerked, yelping when her foot landed on something small, hard, and sharp.

“You okay?” she heard faintly from behind the door, and she bent down, nudging a tiny, nut-shaped something with a finger before picking it up. It was mostly smooth with a couple of holes to show it was hollow. Her nose wrinkled as she squinted at it. It was gooey inside. WTF? she thought, then blanched. It was a skull. A tiny little piscy skull.

“Renee?”

“Stubbed my toe!” Wide awake, she set the skull on a stack of books before opening her door. Jackson was there with a guard, and she pulled herself deeper behind the door when the kid in uniform eyed her robe and grinned. “Ah. Good morning?” she offered, wondering what was up. Dang, Jackson looked good, clean-shaven and his cheeks still holding a hint of moisturizing aftershave. His fatigues weren’t wrinkled yet, and there were two take-out coffees wedged into a tray along with a plate of pastries from the officer’s mess. Seeing her in a robe and messy hair, he grinned as well.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. Sorry for getting you out of bed.”

She ran a hand over her head to try to arrange her hair. “I don’t have a reason to set an alarm.” Fixated on the coffee, she stepped back. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” He lurched forward, and she retreated to her bed, absently tugging the blankets straight. “Sorry about the early hour. I need to talk to you,” he said, then jerked to a halt, hands full as he stared at the mess.

Renee reached for a coffee. “One of those for me?” she half sang as she worked a cup free.

“Ah…yes.” He blinked at her, seeming to not know what to do. “I, ah. Wow. You keep a Spartan room.”

Renee made a small, disinterested noise as she stood at his shoulder and looked at it as if through his eyes. “Sarcasm. And so early in the morning. I knew there was more to you than a uniform.” Setting her coffee on a stack of books, she moved a pile of records from her chair to a box. “Have a seat. Gorman couldn’t have done anything worth knocking on my door at six thirty in the morning.”

Jackson sat and extended the plate of pastries. “Doughnut?”

“If it’s not about Mikail or Tayler, I’m kicking you out.” Renee took one, but her motion to sit on the edge of the bed faltered when, with a flash of color and sudden whoosh, the air was full of wings, and a sinuous shape almost fell on her.

“Hey!” she yelped as Jackson rose, but it was the basilisk, and her shock melted into elation. “There you are, you little devil. What are you doing here?” she cooed, a hand up to corral him. Silky, warm, and smelling faintly of damp herbs, he twined in her fingers, his eyes fixed to the pastry in her hand in obvious want.

“Renee…” Jackson looked from the new coffee stain on his pants to her. “I can’t pretend I don’t know he’s here. He’s got to go back.”

“No argument.” Beaming, she brought the little snake in close, letting him slither through her fingers as she kept the doughnut out of his reach. “But I’d be lying if I said I was upset. No, I can’t give you this. Settle down,” she cooed, and the snake hesitated, eyeing her as if he understood. “Besides, I think you already had your breakfast.” Her gaze flicked to the tiny skull the snake had probably hawked up. Gross .

“He must have snapped in sometime last night. I found a sleeping divot on the pillow.” She beamed at the snake, curling him into a ball as he gazed lovingly at her. “Did you like my pillow, little guy? I need to give you a name if you’re just going to show up when you want.” Her gaze went to Jackson, pulled by his accusing silence. “Dude, I didn’t know he was here until just now. And what are you going to do? Demote me? I don’t work for you.”

“You do, and I’m not here because of a winged snake.” Jackson tugged the chair closer to the bed, leaning over his knees as he fiddled with his phone. “I want you to hear this from me so you don’t go off half-cocked and do something requiring your accommodations to have bars.”

Renee’s fond smile vanished. “Is it Mikail?” Worried, she spilled the snake from hand to hand until he settled into a happy puddle of smoothness. “Gorman?” she guessed again. “Did he escape?”

“No, he’s locked up. Take a squint.”

She leaned to look at his tablet, a part of her enjoying the sharp, clean scent of his aftershave. It was a newscast. Somewhere in Chicago. No, Seattle, Detroit, Atlanta. The location kept shifting, but the people did not, people ugly with anger shouting outside of churches and synagogues. I have a soul, she read off one of the signs . Say no to soulless aliens. No deal with the devil. Satan lies.

“Crap on a cracker,” Renee whispered. “Is this because of yesterday? I thought it went great.”

“There was a hot mic.”

“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “How do you go from that to this?”

“Through Gorman.” Head down, Jackson scrolled. “I could strangle the man. Look.”

Her pulse quickened, and she inched closer as Jackson held his phone between them. It was Gorman in a room identical to hers minus the clutter. “That’s not yesterday’s video,” she said, and Jackson unmuted it.

“Nope. Someone gave him access to the web.”

“Tayler,” Renee guessed bitterly as Gorman’s voice became obvious.

“…from my tiny, locked-door room at the base,” Gorman said, and she gripped her arms around her middle in worry. “Dr. Caisson was very cagey in our interview yesterday, but she managed to get me a little something extra that might bring the Neighbors’ invasion to light.”

“Me!” she exclaimed, and Jackson grimaced at her to be quiet. “I didn’t give him anything and certainly not about an invasion.”

“I’m not saying you did. Listen.”

Renee inched closer, tightening her grip on her robe. “From a comment between Dr. Caisson and the red mer taken after the interview, it’s obvious that the Neighbors believe that the soul isn’t something that we are born with but that it’s obtained, and not everyone has one. Listen to this unscripted, hot-mic comment. I was not in the room at the time. Dr. Caisson waited until I was gone so the Neighbors would talk freely, but I’m sure she meant it for my ears, knowing I would pass the warning on to you.”

“Oh no,” Renee whispered, eyes closing when August’s voice came, scratchy and soft: “He borrowed the energy. He doesn’t have his own. Piers, either, but there are nearly a hundred mers and jins here. It’s easy. Nextdoor there are not so many creation sparks in one spot, so it’s harder. He won’t snap unless afraid.”

“Piers don’t have sparks, huh?” Renee heard herself say, and then August’s answer, “Maybe the basilisk likes you because you don’t have a spark, either.”

Even with the phone’s tiny screen, she could see Gorman’s satisfaction. “Creation spark,” he said, making it a threat. “That sounds like a soul to me. And they don’t think we have one.”

Jackson leaned back and closed down the screen. “It’s a lot of crap after that.”

“Creation sparks are energy sources, not souls,” Renee protested.

“And coming out and telling everyone what creation sparks are would open an entirely new can of ugliness as we explained they can translocate.” Jackson tucked his phone away. “He’s crediting you for the leak.”

Flustered, Renee stood, but there wasn’t anywhere to go, and she sat back down, shooing the little snake from her doughnut. “How? I don’t have access to the internet.” Her gaze came up. “How come he does?”

Jackson smiled a tight-lipped smile. “Good question. After Gorman implicated you at the zoo, I shifted Tayler’s online access to a different server.”

Chewing fast, Renee swallowed. Damn it, I’m stress eating . “And that proves my innocence how?”

Smug, Jackson put an ankle on a knee. “Later in the video, Gorman says you gave him access to the hot mic’s audio and then the password to access the web to post it.”

Renee put a hand to her mouth. “Which I couldn’t have done.”

Inclining his head, Jackson sat up. “Actually, you did. The hot-mic audio files were accessed through your account, and he used your password to get off the installation’s server.”

“Jackson, I don’t even know how to do that—”

“Relax,” he said as he held up a hand. “Like I said, everything Tayler does goes through an outdated server. I’m surprised she hasn’t been bitching at me about the slow speed, but she’s the only one on it, so…Anyway, she may have used your account and password, but it went through her private server, one that you would have no access to even if you could access the net.”

Relief spilled through her. “Thank you.”

“So we know it was her,” he said, then paused. “Want to come to this morning’s meeting and ask her about it?”

Renee’s pulse hammered. Got you, Dr. Bitch. “Here, hold Digit,” she said, spilling the suddenly disgruntled snake into his fumbling hands as she stood. “I have to get dressed.”

“Renee…” he complained, but she was already in her closet. “I don’t like snakes.”

Don’t I have anything black that’s clean? she thought, finally settling on a pair of black jeans, a dark blue top, and a black jacket. “Technically he’s not a snake,” she said as she pulled everything from the hangers and slipped into her bathroom. She left the door open a crack when she heard Jackson sigh.

“You’re calling him Digit?” he questioned loudly.

“Because he doesn’t have any,” she said as she leaned against the wall to put on her socks. No time to shower, but I took one last night.

“He’s got to go back.”

Jackson’s voice had lost its stress, and Renee threw on her jeans and shirt. “Yeah, I know.” Her teeth could wait, but she did a quick rinse with the mouthwash as she brushed her hair. It was still a mess, and she ran a little gloss over her lips to try to make up for it.

“He smells nice,” Jackson said, and Renee shoved her arms into the jacket on her way out. “Sweet mother of Mary, that was fast,” he said and she did a little spin, thinking she probably still looked like crap on a cracker, but she wasn’t going to miss Tayler watching her lies crumble around her. And then you and I are going to have a nice one-on-one with Noel.

“And with some caffeine, I’m good to go,” she said as she lifted the to-go cup he’d brought and gulped it. “Snake, please.”

“He’s all yours.” Jackson stood, and the little snake spread his wings, making the gliding jump to her, where he curled around her neck before slithering down to hide in her jacket’s front pocket.

“I wish he was.” Pensive, she grabbed her nearly useless phone before scuffing on her shoes and following Jackson out into the hall.

“Hang on a sec.” Jackson glanced at the guard on her door before wrangling his buzzing phone out of his back pocket. “This might be about the meeting. Mind if I take it?”

“Not at all.” Renee smiled at her guard, then Jackson. It felt good to be out of her room.

“Yo,” Jackson said, then frowned. “No. I’m with Renee. We’re on our way. She should be allowed to accuse the woman of lying to her face.”

Renee looked up at him. “Problem?”

“Son of a—” Jackson glanced at her, his anger cutting through her like a cold wind.

And then his expression shifted. “You believe him?”

Renee pressed close, trying to hear. “Who?”

“Agreed. Keep him talking. I’ll be right there.” Jackson ended the call, a new, angry slant to his eyes. “Tayler is gone. Left early this morning. Cleared out her files and left.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Renee frowned, not liking his reach for her door. “I guess that settles the question of who helped Gorman, huh?”

“Aah,” Jackson said, his gaze flicking to the guard. “Renee, I need you to return to your room.”

“Absolutely not,” she protested as he pushed her door open. “I want to talk to Gorman. He probably knows where Tayler went.”

“He does. And now we do, too.” One hand on her shoulder, he pointed at her room. “Gorman is singing like a bird. Room, please. I have things to do.”

“So do I. Let’s go.”

“Room.”

“Nuh-uh!” She ducked out of his reach.

“You’re staying,” he said again, motioning for the nervous guard to keep out of it. “That badge you accepted means I pretty much own you from nine to five and the time outside of it. If I want you sitting on your cot for three months, you will sit on your cot for three months.”

Eyes narrowed, she stared at him. “I told Noel I’d find Mikail. I promised her she would be able to confront the people who mutilated her kin. You told me you would help. That you’d drive the car, if I remember. If Tayler isn’t there, if Gorman is lying, she’s gone and Mikail with her. I’ll never find him.”

“You are not military, and you will stay!” he shouted, shocking her. The little snake in her front pocket made a startled chirp—and then his weight vanished.

Gosh darn it. Sullen, she rocked back, arms over her middle.

Jackson sighed, his outstretched hand dropping. “This is not your job. You are not trained for this. Let me hear you say it.”

“I’m not trained for this,” she said. “Can I talk to Gorman?”

“No.” Jackson sighed, his brow pinched in worry. “I’ll bring Tayler back, and you can be there when I put her and Noel in a room, okay?”

Renee’s chin lifted. “How about August? Can I at least talk to August?” She could tell Jackson was impatient to be gone. Distracted. So what if she didn’t wear combat boots or carry a rifle. She could wait in the car.

Jackson hesitated, an odd look on his face as he took a step backward, leaving her in her room as he moved to the hall. “No. I trust you, but there’s a devil on your shoulder.”

“You won’t let me talk to August?” she ground out from between her teeth.

He shook his head, motioning for the guard to press forward. “You do too many things without thinking. Start with one intention and then end up somewhere else. Stay here. Just for a few hours.”

“Jackson, don’t you shut that door,” she warned as the guard reached for the door. “I can’t fix this if you won’t let me out of this room!” she shouted, eyes widening as he shut it. “Damn it, Jackson. If you lock me in here, I quit!” Frustrated, she gave in and slammed her fist on it. Once.

“You can’t quit. You were drafted!” he said, words muffled.

“The hell I can’t! Damn it, Jackson!” She stood at the door, wanting to pound on it, but her hand hurt. “I promised Noel I’d find Mikail.”

“Don’t take this personally,” came his voice, the very calmness of it irritating her. “I’m revoking the Neighbors’ expanded range as well. No one moves until we find her.”

“Yeah?!” she shot back. “You’re just a modern-day King Arthur, aren’t you!”

He was silent, and she gave the door a sharp kick before sitting back on the bed and stewing. She was stuck. And even her snake had left her.

Make a promise, keep a promise.