Those same humans would kill Angie with no qualms.
Again I pushed away the emotions I had no time to deal with right now.
I checked my cell to see an update from Alex. It told me that the Robere twins were driving everywhere, to city hall, to HQ, to Grégoire’s clan home. They were also on the phone to the governor and the local NOLA PD, the various sheriff’s departments and highway patrols, as well as local, small-town law enforcement near the airport, trying to mitigate present and future DQ problems with politicians and cops should there be an attack. That meant the airport switcheroo wouldn’t be secret for long. I sent back a text acknowledging that I understood. Talking with the law used to be my job, back when I was a lowly rogue-vamp hunter.
Now I had people for that.
I scrutinized myself in the mirror. I was still human-shaped, and I was fully aware that I might shift without my own intent and control into one of my other natural forms: various half-form shapes or fully to Beast. Half-form would be okay. The armor was designed for that in mind. Puma concolor was a different matter entirely. A big-cat in this gear would make me a target, a big-cat trapped in clothes, like a net. I shouldn’t go. But. This was an official visit by VIWs—very important witches. And—Angie had said I needed to be on site, so I’d be on site.
I was part of the welcoming team, and despite Quint’s furious demands that I be kept safe at HQ, I would be at the airport, carrying enough firepower to make even Eli proud. Not that I could figure out what kind of attack might come.
There was no record of Mainet being able to daywalk, but who really knew. Including vamps in daylight, the danger could be anything. What kind of weapons would come at us? Magical, surely, which I couldn’t stop anyway. Mundane, which would injure us all. Killing some of us. “Crap,” I whispered as I pulled on a super-comfy pair of custom-made adjustable battle boots.
I had poured over the sat maps of the small airport. There was no protection for debarking passengers, little security, lots of danger, but it would be an unexpected place for Yellowrock and NOLA visitors to land. Unexpected meant safer. Maybe. Unless the enemy had access to time...
Through the postulated time circle.
Even without trying to see the futures, I could envision possibilities. Angie was a witch. She could see time, almost like a... like a scryer. A time scryer.
Did the enemy have time scryers?
What if the Heir or his scions and slaves could scry? That could allow them to act outside of, or ahead of, time. They would have plenty of time to put one of those transporter circles on site, and no human or drone would see it until it popped into existence.Crap. I was tired. I didn’t have Eli to bandy ideas back and forth. I hadn’t thought through all the possibilities.
I was securing my human feet into my battle bootswhen my cell pinged with a text. It was Bruiser, telling me, “Security is in place and the airport is locked down. All other flights are being diverted, and the officials have allowed the Dark Queen’s drones to make two passes around the airport. Everything seems safe.” My terror eased until I read the next line. “Now only time changes and the roads into NOLA present a danger.”
And that part made me nearly shiver. I texted back, “If Mainet has time scryers, they may have a transport circle in place under camouflage. Something that would let them send attackers there at the last possible moment.”
Bruiser texted back, “Understood. Re-evaluating.”
We needed Eli.
We didn’t have Eli.
I needed the Infermeri. The vamp who was locked inside the nearest thing to a coffin, strapped into the cargo hold, on the plane that might be attacked and destroyed, along with my friends.
My armor had special sheaths for sharp pointy things. Into them, I added throwing knives and knives of various lengths and for various purposes. I threaded in the null sticks. I checked myself in the mirror again. The matte black armor was cinched to allow for body-shape changes and the battle boots were laced tight. My amber eyes glowed with my Beast.
I/we are best hunter. Will keep witches and kits safe.
Yeah. Dang skippy,I thought again.
Beast does not skip.
I chuckled and smeared on scarlet lipstick, shoved the Glob into a padded pocket, flipped the light switches off, and left my room.
***
At two p.m., my driver, Wrassler, who surely had admin duties and should be shuffling paperwork or talking to staff or something, and my three-person security team, each member armored and armed top to toe, sat in my SUV, which was also armored. To keep the four black vehicles, part of my motorcade, from standing out like extra thumbs, we were parked between two metal buildings, one of which was an office, the other a brand-new hangar. The vehicles were impossible to see except fromspecific narrow angles, making them difficult targets. All the other SUVs were empty, as the team I had brought had dispersed to provide additional protection for the jet. The other vehicle drivers were positioned at either end of the narrow passage where we were parked.
I had learned that airport security had been dead set against weapons and former military, but the possibility of magical attack, especially seeing the video of the null prison attack, had changed their minds. That and the charm of my Onorio Consort. He wouldn’t roll humans the way he could a vamp, but when he turned on his power of persuasion, learned as primo at the feet of the former MOC of NOLA, he was more than formidable.
All around the tiny public airport and scattered in trees off the runway were the rest of the teams. Bruiser’s two teams had arrived in staggered batches, on motorcycles, and had been outfitted on site, so there wouldn’t be so many SUVs parked all over and visible from overhead. Two snipers in desert camo armor were on the roofs to either side, each with a good firing vantage point. Even knowing my people were there, I hadn’t been able to spot anyone.
Alex, sitting in the main security room in HQ, had access to the tower’s audio both here and at our usual airport, which I knew he wasn’t supposed to have access to. He had been giving us a running commentary, up to one minute ago. Then zilch. I adjusted my earbuds and repositioned my mic. Still nothing but the quiet chatter from the teams in the field.
On the small dashboard screen were thumbnails of each of the vest cam images. On two of them I spotted the black hoods of our SUVs, meaning they were in our narrow alley, covering us. One showed the roots of a tree. Another was a close-up of a section of a metal wall. Bushes. Dirt. Boots. A view of an open area near the runway. Nothing useful. And I hated being stuck in the SUV, away from everything.
Being DQ sucked, but I kept my sulking to myself.
