And…
I didn’t believe either of those things, but Regan did, and that’s what mattered. I’d play on those beliefs so that Regan DuPree remained useful to me. But she was useful and dangerous, I thought, tucking the manual into my bedside drawer. And
11
Saturn’s Orchard, located at the top of a stunted and narrow staircase, reminded me of my Krav Maga dojo in the mortal world. Nondescript, spartan, and clean; if I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, I could pretend I was back in that heated little room, learning to protect my own life…rather than the Las Vegas valley as a whole.
Of course there were differences. For one, the paranormal version was also a mood room. I don’t know if being pyramid-shaped had anything to do with it, but the room reacted to emotion. The whitewashed walls acted as a blank canvas for dueling agents-and when engaged, glyphs soared over a colorful universe, indicating who was winning.
To get there I had to pass the children’s ward, where the sounds of high-pitched laughter and chatter floated down the hallway in a cacophony that was like nails on a chalkboard to me. I stuck my head around the corner, peering in the direction of the noise. I knew nothing about kids. I was rarely around them, and my own childhood had been blotted out by the trauma endured in my teens. I knew they ate a lot of mac and cheese, that play was the focal point of their day, and most had limited impulse control, which made them do things like scream their little heads off for no reason. In truth, they kind of frightened me. Almost more than the thought of chasing Shadows.
“They don’t bite, you know,” an amused voice piped from behind.
I turned to find Gregor, his wide eyes crinkled with humor as he looked at me. Other than a subtle green cast to his skin from the exercise in the boneyard the night before, humor was the one thing that saved Gregor from looking fierce. Okay, that and the rabbit foot hanging from his belt. And while the symbols worn around his neck didn’t soften his image, they did speak of his superstitious nature; a cross, a Jewish star, and a crescent moon all clustered together in unlikely harmony. His warden, Sheena, was tucked beneath his good arm as usual, clearly unimpressed.
“Some of them do,” I replied, barely containing a shudder.
He grinned more widely. “That’s called teething. Only the little ones do that, and they’re long in bed. The others have been instructed not to bite the star signs.”
“Comforting that they had to be told,” I said, leaning over to stroke Sheena behind her ear. She pressed into my touch, trusting Gregor to keep her balanced. “Listen, have you been keeping up with the papers? Or the scanner? Anything going on that looks like Shadow activity?”
He shook his head, which gleamed even in the dim light. “I get the dailies first thing in the morning, local and national, and nothing’s popped. Nobody has a clue what the Tulpa’s up to, but we’re as balanced as we ever were, that’s for sure.”
I thought about that for a moment, and though his certainty was probably warranted, asked, “Do you think you could save them for me at the end of the day? At least the front page and the metro section? Warren wants me to stay in the sanctuary. Again.”
Gregor shot me a sympathetic look, showing me he’d already heard. “Sure…looking for anything in particular?”
I thought about lying, then reconsidered. It would cost me nothing to tell Gregor about the lab-he didn’t need to know about Liam and Regan, or the information that’d led me to Joaquin at Master Comics-and if anyone could help me discover the mystery of what a scientific laboratory was doing in a casino, it was he. So I told him about the portal Hunter had pushed me through at Valhalla, and what I’d found behind it. “So I was wondering if you’d heard of any missing person cases in the last, say, three months.”
“I wonder what they’re up to…” All the humor was absent from his gaze as he squinted in thought. “I could go through the archives. Look for a missing doctor, scientist. Maybe a professor of science out at the university.”
“Yeah, someone like Micah. A lab rat.”
“Better yet, I’ll just ask him when we get to the Orchard,” he said, motioning up the stairwell.
I frowned, surprised. “That’s where you’re going?”
He nodded, and Sheena stretched to nuzzle his chin. “Same as everyone else.”
I’d thought my training session with Tekla was private, and was surprised to find he was right; the others were lounging about the room in varying degrees of green-skinned glory. Most had faded to a light jade by now…all except Chandra, I noted, with more than a little satisfaction. She was still a dazzling Day-Glo emerald, and I gave her a little finger wave from across the room. She merely returned a finger.
Micah, as large as a sumo wrestler and as tall as a basketball player, was stretching lithely on the floor, and Gregor dropped down beside him to fill him in before Tekla arrived. I remained standing, though I shot him an apologetic smile. “Sorry about the hit yesterday, Micah. Good job on the color, though.”
“Thanks.” He smiled wryly, examining his fading forearm. “Next time I’ll try to concoct something a little less durable.”
Micah and Gregor were the only senior troop members in the room. Warren was absent, and the rest of the star signs were juniors; Vanessa and Felix, Riddick and Jewell, and me. The training we underwent-such as the maze out in the boneyard-was a good way for those in the middle to jockey for position, and the initiates who were raised in this subterranean grotto started that practice young. Scoring kill spots against enemy agents also gained you more power within the troop hierarchy, and the foiling of a Shadow plot was a good way to earn brownie points too. But everyone knew their place at any given moment.
Everyone, I thought wryly, but me.
“Monkeys?” I heard Micah say, and turned back to find him gazing up at me questioningly. “Primates are generally used for more complex research…combating disease, testing transplantations and vaccines, new surgeries.”
“Things that would eventually be used on humans,” Gregor said, and the two of them looked at each other in the long stretch of silence. After a moment Gregor rose again and left the room. I knew he was headed to speak with Warren.
I swallowed hard. “It’s serious, then?”
“It’s probably nothing, but you were right to say something.” A swift smile flickered over his face as he motioned around the room. “Ready for class?”
I narrowed my eyes, wondering why he was changing the subject, but let it drop as I noticed all the training paraphernalia-heavy bags, pads, ropes, and mitts-had been put away, and the spongy mat with its opposing sparring circles had been removed to reveal a naked slab of concrete.
Micah explained that the mat’s removal deactivated the mood room, and in its place was a single mirrored panel propped vertically beneath the apex of the whitewashed pyramid; colorless, stark, and somehow intimidating.
I stepped forward, studying my reflection in the shiny slab, hands on hips, feet splayed wide, a stance that looked a hell of a lot more assured than it felt. “So…what? We gonna practice our scariest superfaces on each other?”
Micah gave a shrug of his giant shoulders, and stood with a grunt until he towered at his full seven feet. “Probably another lesson on energy. We’ll find out when Tekla gets here.”
“She’s always late,” I grumbled, still peeved at the way she’d dug at me the day before. “You’d think a psychic would know we’re all waiting for her.”
“It’s an affectation,” Micah said, smiling sympathetically and ruffling my hair. “The troop’s Seer is allowed her eccentricities. Just look past the quirks, and you’ll learn something despite yourself.”
I was about to say that
