A part of her had still been grieving for the Norman she once knew, but seeing his crimes listed out in black and white on a screen pinched those feelings until they were starved of blood and oxygen. Any lingering softness for his memory necrotized, leaving nothing but rot in its place.
The man she thought she knew had probably never really existed, and he deserved what he got, brutal as that end was. Any person who thought science should be progressed on the broken backs of sentient beings did not deserve mercy, nor understanding.
He did not deserve her grief, only the bolt that had ended his life.
Although Atria still struggled with feeling responsible for Norman’s crimes, a small part of that guilt was assuaged by the news that they’d not only been found, but were being treated by professionals who would get them the care they needed as they adjusted to their freedom.
Chloe’s been found. Norman can’t hurt anyone else. It’s over.
Breathing became a little easier. A bit of her energy returned. Her spirit, battered and bruised, started to pull itself off the ground. She began to pay more attention to what her mate was doing as he hunched over her tablet, a scowl grooving his handsome face.
Once they had a connection to the outside world, Kaz spent hours poring over leads, contacting people who might know anything at all about the bounty. When she asked how he had so much access to that kind of information, he blandly explained that information was his expertise.
She couldn’t exactly say she was surprised to discover that he was the Protectorate’s spymaster and Captain of his own secret unit. From minute one, he’d shown a resourcefulness and knowledge that heavily implied military experience, while his ruthlessness hinted at the… off-the-books side of his work. He had, after all, taken out three gargoyles in less than five minutes with a single bolt gun.
Kaz always seemed to know exactly where they needed to go, how to hotwire a new car, who was a threat and who wasn’t. He traveled with a damngo-bag,for Glory’s sake! Of course he was some sort of intelligence officer. The only other option was hit man.
Dread churned her stomach when she asked, “Is it dangerous?”
Kaz had looked up from a message to give her a reassuring half-smile. “Not so much these days. When Teddy promoted me to Captain, I lost a lot of my field duties. Nowadays I’m mostly a manager. My team acts as my eyes and ears. It’s my job to make sure everyone I put in the field comes home all right and to use the information they obtain to keep the EVP safe. I need to know about every bad operator, illegal operation, powerplayer, and troublemaker in the territory. Teddy, Valen, the other Captains, and myself then use that information to keep shit steady. Sometimes that’s ugly, but mostly it's just paperwork.”
“You need to know abouteveryone?”
“Well, everyone who might cause problems.” Kaz shrugged. “Doesn’t mean wedoanything with that information, but we have it just in case.”
“Give me an example. Are you tracking every single person who comes over the border?” She’d heard the elves were strict about territory security, but that seemed like an exercise in madness.
“No, not everyone. We let in dangerous people all the time, particularly if we feel like they could be an asset in the future and won’t cause trouble in the present. We flag the baddies.” Kaz gave her a shrewd look. “For example, we know that an assassin applied to live in some tiny nothing town in the Sierras a few years back. I’ve got a file on Harlan Bounds two inches thick. He’s got atleasta hundred hits to his name, probably more.”
Atria sputtered. “You let himin?”
“My team got the intel, passed it to me, and we decided that Bounds wasn’t a threat. He wanted to get out of the game and was willing to pump a fuckload of money into the local economy in the process. And if we everneededsomeone of his skill, he’d be there to utilize — whether he wanted to be or not.” Kaz gestured expansively with his hands. “My job is to know these things, make a risk assessment, and then determine next steps. See? I’m not exactly jumping from m-levs with my gun drawn. Mostly, anyway. Can’t say itneverhappens.”
That soothed her, though she doubted she would ever be completely okay with the risks his duties entailed, minimal as they apparently were. She also wasn’t exactly sure how she felt knowing that there were probably scores of extremely dangerous criminals walking around.
Amongst the many hard truths she’d had to face since she stepped off the plane in Denver, Atria was forced to accept that her orderly world was quite a bit more dangerous — and crowded — than she realized.
Kaz was becoming good at reading her. When he saw the worried crease in her brow remained unchanged, he shifted the subject to ask her to explain her work. Of course, she’d given him the basics, but now they had the time for arealexplanation.
That proved difficult without her tablet to show him schematics, so he spent a few minutes tinkering with it before he handed it back and asked her to explain again.
“So…” he began, comprehension lifting his brows. One thick finger tapped the edge of the tablet. “If you had one of these generators in every major city—”
“Exactly.Just one could cut San Francisco’s energy consumption by two-thirds. If we built a grid, we could channel even the smallest m-storm flares into these generators and power theworld.”
“I can see why someone would try to turn this into a weapon,” he grimly noted. “That much power sitting in one place… How easy would it be for you or Ruby to make it destructive?”
Atria fought the immediate prickle of tears that dogged her whenever her best friend’s name came up.She’ll be found,she silently reminded herself.We found Chloe. We can find Ruby. She’s okay. Right now she’s lost, but she’ll be home soon.
Clearing her throat, she answered, “Like any form of energy, it’s volatile. Electricity, gas, nuclear power — all of it can be used destructively if you try. But magic issovolatile that it almost refuses to be contained, which is half the reason no one figured out how to do this until now. To make these generators work, Ruby and I had to build in an incredible amount of safeguards to even allow them functionality. Theoretically, we could take them out and make a bomb of sorts, but it wouldn’t work.”
“Why?”
“Because removing even one of those safeguards creates a cascade effect. The magic would bleed out before you had a chance to walk away.” She rubbed her forehead, eyes closed and heart aching for the people who saw progress in destruction.
“To put it simply, magic can only bediverted.It wants to flow. Trying to stop that movement is almost impossible. That’s why so many people like me have trouble getting sigils to stick, right? All we managed to do was guide its natural course — a bit like moving a river to hit a water wheel. So turning our technology into a controllable weapon would be equally impossible.”
“And if these generators were widely available—”
