Page 122 of The Hive Queen

“Yeah, boss,” O’Hara says. “Can’t paperwork wait until morning?”

“Fine,” I relent. “But the documentation and body burning can’t, so we’ll still need an hour. And I want everyone at their desks by noon tomorrow, filling out their paperwork.”

“Yes, sir! Come on, Johansson.” O’Hara hurries toward the driver’s door. “Let’s lay this monster to rest.”

“We’ll join you in an hour or so.” With a nod to Pen, I join Mayn in the sedan.

The others disperse to their vehicles, and we all head back toward the station.

We park in the garage at the JTFPI, and I leave O’Hara the privilege of walking Johansson through the process of documenting the kill and taking samples while I go down to the Ward with Mayn to check on the survivors.

There, we find good news and bad news.

The ones who hadn’t yet succumbed to the stings are miraculously healed, the red lumps on the back of their necks having vanished. Some of the ones who only recently turned into drones show signs of returning to their senses, but the oldest of them stand frozen in the center of their cells, staring blankly into space.

We’ll monitor them for a few days before releasing the ones who have returned to normal, and see about arranging medical supervision for those who may never regain their minds.

When we head up to the main floor, we find Chief Lynch and Captain Bailey waiting.

The news of the Hive Queen’s defeat came while they were still planning an attack.

I send Mayn to the break room, then gesture for the men to join me in my office, so at least my dressing down won’t be in front of my subordinates.

Chief Lynch surprises me, though, when he seems more put out about wasting the day planning for a battle never happened. After a few grumbles, he switches to discussing the press conference we’ll need to arrange and the commendations I’ll receive for taking down the threat.

It sounds like he plans to make it into a pageantry to back up my statement that he has full faith in my department. How the tides turn when backed into a corner. I’m sure this hasn’t won me any favors behind closed doors, though.

Especially not from Bailey, whose face flushes with livid anger.

With the news vans on site when we walked out of the woods, there’s no way to spin the story to make it look like his department had anything to do with our victory, and with my people working in the background, all the comments currently flooding the internet are glowing with praise for the JTFPI’s quick action.

“We’ll meet again tomorrow to go over the details for the press conference,” Lynch says as he heads for the door. “Get some rest, because the next few days are going to be packed for you, Sharpe.”

But not for Bailey, and he notices the significance of his name being left out.

He hangs back in my office, waiting for our boss to leave, before turning to face me. “So, you think you’ve won?”

I lean my hands back against my desk. “I didn’t realize we were in competition.”

“You know damn well we were supposed to work this together.” Face florid, he jabs a finger at me. “You sniped it out from under me.”

My temper flares at the hypocrisy of that statement, and I lift a brow. “Like you tried to do when you offered to hire The Cleaners to take care of this before I could?”

He sputters. “I did no such thing.”

Anger slithers through me, and I straighten away from the desk to step toward him. “Let me make something very clear, Bailey. The Cleaners aremine, and through them, every other paranormal mercenary team.”

His mouth opens, but I talk right over him. “You may think I’m in a position of weakness because my department is new, but my people have been at this for longer than you’ve been alive and hold more power than you can ever dream of in your conniving little mind. This is not a battle you will win, so go back to pretending you’re human and leave the Others to me.”

As he blusters, I stride to the door and stand next to it. “Have a good evening, Captain Bailey. Oh, and unless you want to read about a miscarriage of justice on the evening news, I suggest you drop the charges against Josephine.”

I watch until he passes through security before stepping out and reaching into my pocket for my keys to lock up my office.

My fingers bump against a hard, square object, and my pulse quickens as I pull it out and stare down at the earbud box that had vanished from my hand the night before.

I roll it between my fingers, checking it from all sides, but it looks just as it did the night it disappeared.

“Captain?” Mayn calls from the break area. “Are you finished here?”

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