Page 18 of Just Dare Me
“You see, guys? Why am I the one with dominance? Why can’t it be Elle? She could rule the world.”
“Ohhh, you’re getting dominance? When did that happen?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it started when I left my pack, or when Jay was taken away. It’s impossible to say.”
She looks up at me and winks. “Or you’ve had it all along. You’ve always dominated me, Shayne.”
I don’t even roll my eyes this time, because the truth is, Elle’s presence, her over-the-top affection, feels good. I can physically feel her calming effect on me. Is that new or is it all in my head, now that I’m aware of my dominance? Who cares? All I know is that I’m feeling better now, surrounded by my circle of trust—my friends. They’re an odd mix of screwballs. But they’remyscrewballs.
A vague sensation ripples through my body. With it comes a strong, clear thought in my mind that vows to do anything for them, anything for those within my circle. It’s an oddly expansive feeling, as if my awareness of those closest to me is growing.
Needless to say, this is not a natural trait for foxes, which are notoriously solitary. We look out for number one. That’s how we survive. By habit, I want to resist this expansion—I want to grab hold of that circle and keep it from getting any bigger. Bigger is bad. Bigger means more people to think about, to worry about, to feel responsible for. Losing Jay nearly killed me. There’s no way I could take any more of that.
Well, it’s no use resisting. When I even think about pushing back, my flesh crawls, and something in me feels unsettled and anxious. So I give in. I wrap my arms around Elle and lay my cheek on the top of her head. Instantly, that anxious feeling seems to almost purr with relief.
A few moments later, the room goes quiet when Madison West comes out of her office. After a sweeping glance across the large gathering, she gives a satisfied nod. “Thank you all for coming. I apologize for the short notice, as well as the early hour, but after you’ve heard what I’m about to disclose, I think you’ll agree that the importance of this case trumps the inconvenience. To state the obvious, everything we’re about to discuss is strictly confidential. Not only that, but it will lead to action that is extremely high risk. I know that’s what you all signed up for when joining the Agency in your various capacities, but still, I want to give you the choice to get out now, because once you’re in, you’re in.”
She clasps her hands and waits in silence. Nobody leaves. In fact, after an introduction like that, I’m pretty sure nobody is breathing.
“Good,” she says, and she uses a remote to turn on a TV that takes up the entire wall next to her office door. “Then let’s begin.”
On the TV screen isan old photograph of a good-looking man, middle-aged, with salt-and-pepper in his well-groomed beard. In a flattering dress shirt with a tie loosened, he smiles at the camera, exuding casual charm and sophistication.
I know this guy. He was master of ceremonies at the secret masquerade of elite sorcerers and East Side demons—the Grande ballroom incident. He runs the whole shit show that now holds Jay hostage.
“His name is Marco Deus,” Madison West explains. “Some of you may remember him; a few of you knew him well, but most of you have only heard his name in rumors—rumors which also include my name. Because Marco Deus was my husband. That is, until I killed him.” She pauses, allowing for any gasps or murmurs. It’s a testament to the respect she commands that the entire crowd remains silent.
She continues. “I apologize for the delay in calling this meeting. It’s been a few months since it was discovered that Marco Deus is, in fact, alive. So why has it taken us so long to respond? Why are we just now putting this case officially on the books? The answer is not only bureaucracy, as always, but we’ve also had to take things slow out of an abundance of caution. Because if we don’t get this right, we’re looking at an existential threat to the underworld, and I’m not just talking about Detroit. I meanglobally.”
Now the murmurs and gasps rise from the crowd. It’s like the whole room just got an electric shock. I have to admit, even my jaw is dropped, and I already knew about Marco Deus. Hell, I’m the one who found him. He’s a bad man who wants to do bad things—I get it—but now Madison West is saying he’s a threat to the whole world?
Voices start to raise. Questions being hurled at Madison. “Your concerns are justified and expected,” she says, maintaining her usual decorum. “You know I’m not inclined to rhetoric. When I say that the entire world is in danger, I mean it. And no one is in a better position to know than me. Which is why I’m now going to put an end to all the rumors for good. There’s no record of this. There’s no report. The whole of it has been locked inside my mind…” Her voice becomes softer. “And in my heart…all these years.”
After taking a moment to steel her nerves, Director West adopts a commanding tone. “What you’ve heard is that Marco Deus and I were married and madly in love, until the day the Agency discovered that Marco was secretly practicing necromancy in league with the East Side horde. When he resisted arrest using lethal force against the Agency, we had no choice but to respond with equal force. In the end, his death came by my own hand. All of that’s true.”
She pauses to take a few measured breaths. “But what you’veneverheard is that I had already known Marco’s secret for some time.” Another shock wave. I notice that the only person in the room who doesn’t look surprised is Nick Gorgeous.
“Marco was obsessed with discovering the secret to necromancy, and my power would have been incredibly helpful. He constantly pressured me to join his quest. Make of that what you will. Was he only interested in my power from the very beginning? Was he only using me? I choose to deny such an ugly possibility. I think Marco was a good man who fell victim to the persistence of demons. All I know for sure is that once he opened the door to them, he was never the same again.
“My hope was that without my help and support, Marco would eventually grow disillusioned and give up the scheme, as so many sorcerers have done before. As it turns out, I had underestimated him. I’ve never seen him more giddy than the day he told me he’d finally had the epiphany. He had learned the secret key to necromancy.
“Now he was more desperate than ever for me to join him in fealty to the East Side horde. For those who aren’t familiar with the process, necromancy can only be learned by listening to the whispers of demon spirits. If a sorcerer ever repeats these teachings out loud, their covenant with the horde will become void, making necromancy impossible.
“So, while Marco couldn’t tell me the secret, he figured he could further entice me by sharingwhyhis quest was so important. He explained that we could play a vital role in a plot that would change the world. Hearing the details of this plot is what convinced me to finally alert the FUA. The threat was ended, along with my marriage, that same day.
“Or so I thought. Now that Marco is back, so is the plot, which is this: the East Side horde seeks a new body for possession by their horde master, Arael Moaz. Their plan is to kill a powerful underworlder—someone of, say, Nick Gorgeous’s caliber. Using necromancy, they would then reanimate the body, along with all its power, only now with the spirit of Arael Moaz in the driver’s seat.”
Grumbling ripples through the crowd. Some people shrug, unimpressed. One guy says, “Let them try. Demons chase power and immortality. It’s what they do.”
Director West raises a finger of caution. “I would share your dismissal, if only Arael Moaz cared about immortality or power, which he does not. Once he possesses a new underworld body, his plan is to lead his horde through the heart of downtown Detroit, using underworld power to level the city in broad daylight, for all the world to see. What Arael Moaz wants is to out the underworld, and we’re so far behind the curve this time, I’m not sure it’s possible to stop him.”
This time, the shock is so unexpected that Madison West is only met with blank looks. That silence is the sound of minds being blown.
“Imagine him taking the form of a wolf, or a gryphon, or adragonin front of every cell phone camera in Detroit. Twenty years ago, this wouldn’t have been feasible. But now? There’d be a hundred live streams up in an instant, and there’s no amount of glamour or magic or politics that could cover it up.”
Nick adjusts the cowboy hat on his bald head. “Well, he ain’t taking the form of a dragon, I can tell you that much.” He winks at the stunned crowd.
But nobody’s having any of his charm right now. The fear is too raw. The threat of exposure is the common nightmare of the entire underworld, a torch passed down through generations since the beginning of time. It’s just such a huge thing to contemplate, like a meteor destroying Earth. You know it’s possible, but it’s never going to happen. Notreally.
