Copper Girl (16 page)

“Maybe I can find out if they saw me, and if Sadie and Mom are in danger.” Micah was uncharacteristically silent on that; he valued family, and would hear out any plan that involved protecting mine. I hoped. I moved so I was lying on his chest, my nose almost touching his. “What if they really are in danger? What will we do?”

“If they are so endangered, we will bring them here, where your government of fools cannot harm them,” Micah replied.

“Those fools are already here,” I said softly. He pursed his lips and looked away. “Micah, I know it’s risky, but I need to know if the Peacekeepers have plans concerning my family.”

“You want to learn if she was ever your friend,” he countered.

It was my turn to look away. Was it so wrong to want to know that? To find out if we’d hit it off in school, only to have Juliana’s loyalties bought later on? I hoped that wasn’t the case. I hoped she’d been a spy from day one. The betrayal would be somehow less devastating that way.

“I do,” I whispered. Micah admitted that he understood, albeit only in theory, and now we were sitting in my mechanical in my usual spot in front of the Lovers’ Pine. Since this was the last time I was ever going to set foot in Real Estate Evaluation Services, I didn’t care if my parking privileges were revoked for letting unauthorized individuals into the lot.

The plan was simple: I would go to work and behave as if nothing unusual, or magical, had happened over the long weekend. I would engage the enemy—Juliana—in conversation, hopefully learn something useful, and somehow keep myself from calling her out as a government spy. Micah, my over-protective consort, would follow me as his dreamself, and if I appeared to be in any sort of danger he would yank me out of the office and we’d retreat to the Otherworld. Really, what could go wrong?

Well, in spite of the many flaws in the plan we were doing it, anyway. Or at least I was; Micah still wavered somewhere between being my unwilling accomplice and my potential abductor.

“If things go awry, you will leave,” Micah ordered, as I took the key from the ignition.

“And what does ‘awry’ encompass?” I asked lightly.

“Anything out of the ordinary.” He squeezed my hand. “Anything.”

“Like fresh coffee?” He frowned; I wondered if he knew what coffee was. I made a mental note to speak to the silverkin about the virtues of espresso and frothed milk. “I will. I promise. If anything looks weird, I’ll leave.”

“Mmm. ‘Weird.”’ Micah eyed me appraisingly, then put his hand on the nape of my neck. “And if
I
think there’s anything weird, I will be at your side in a moment.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Micah lowered the passenger seat as a drone flitted by, but the metal beast gave no indication of having seen him. After a short follow-up lecture on the inherent dangers he was willing to rescue me from, Micah allowed me to exit the mechanical and go to work.

It turned out that my office was the same as ever, so boring that I wanted to claw my eyes out. I nodded a few hellos as I walked to my desk, terrified that someone would sense something new about me, something magical or…Other. Then Floyd made a crack about where I’d been wearing my high heels when I wasn’t at The Room last Friday night; in his meager defense, it was tradition to go out for a much-needed drink on Tax Day. I rolled my eyes, relieved that everything appeared normal, and sat down to work.

As you know, my official title was Quarterly Report Sorter.
I know, glamorous
. But I was assured that mine was a vital occupation, and that without these many sheets of paper properly sorted and filed in the correct folders, chaos would ensue, so I sorted. In fact, I sorted so fast that I had no idea what the reports were about, which was a good thing. My employment contract specifically forbade me from reading them due to their sensitive, confidential nature.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m no goody-two-shoes like my sister. I read a few in the beginning, and after learning everything I never wanted to know about easements and accessibility, I realized exactly why these reports needed to remain confidential. Can’t have the workers nodding off at their desks, can we?
So I sorted in ignorance, only keeping my eye on the prize, which was, in this case, a clear inbox.

Since I didn’t really care about this job anymore, I gave in to my rebellious streak. After a quick glance, I peeled away the title page and read the top report. It went thusly:

Report A: The Care and Feeding of Hamsters

A hamster is an excellent first pet, and can do much in the way of teaching a child responsibility…

And it went on for fourteen pages.

Well, that can’t be right
, I mused, still searching for the rational needle in the insane haystack. REES dealt with commercial real estate procurement, not disposable pets. I flipped to Report B, which was all about carnivorous houseplants, then on to C, a treatise on natural furniture polish. Apparently, lemon oil could do wonders for your grand piano.

Somewhere around the fifteenth report I found another copy of the hamster information; by the time I made it to the very last report, which was also the
third
hamster summary, a cold knot had formed in my gut. All of these ‘vital reports’ were nothing more than lame articles, reprinted and plopped on my desk to keep me busy. I’d been wasting my time sorting garbage.

Why am I sorting nonsense?
I remembered how hard it had been for me to find a job after graduation, how I’d chalked it up to a bad economy and dim prospects. Then an ad for a Quarterly Report Sorter at Real Estate Evaluation Services had suddenly been plastered all over the local paper, and they’d hired me after the shortest interview I’d ever endured. I remembered how excited I was to have work, and at the added bonus of working with my old friend, Juliana. I’d always been grateful to her, assuming that she’d put in a good word for me.

I now understood that that was not quite what had happened.

That cold lump in my belly had grown into a boulder of ice. I pushed the worthless reports aside and called up the search engine on my computer. I wasn’t supposed to use it, which was also duly noted in my employment contract. Whatever. Since I’d gotten away unscathed last time, I waited for the company’s internal search field to populate, and took a deep breath. Then, I typed in Max’s name.

I didn’t really expect to find anything, except maybe a security guard appearing at my elbow, waiting to escort me away from my desk. Instead, I got incident reports that detailed Max’s rampant magic usage, grainy surveillance photos of my family at the Raven Compound, and a link to a video of my family having a picnic in the side yard. Dad was in the video, which meant that whoever had been spying on my family had begun their mission even before the wars.

Before the wars?

Another page held a detailed account of Max’s capture and subsequent trial as an enemy of the state. I had never known about a trial, and I sure as hell didn’t think Mom had, either. While perusing the details of his sentence, I clicked a link and was rewarded with schematics of his prison, the ironically named Institute for Elemental Research.

They wanted me to find this. They’ve all been waiting me out
. It was obviously bait for a trap, me being the mouse in question, but I had faith that Micah wouldn’t let REES spring it. I hit print, then tried to look inconspicuous as the ancient machine whirred to life. I hoped it wouldn’t run out of ink. I did
not
want to call the help desk, especially since I was pretty much committing treason.

“Whatcha doin’?”

I managed to complete those few short steps to the printer, despite the icy sweat that broke out over my entire body. Calmly, I gathered up my papers and turned to face Juliana.

“I needed to reprint a report.”

“Really?” Her surprise was understandable, for who really needed a better copy of a sham report?

“Yeah. First time I’ve ever had to.” I resumed my seat and shuffled the newly printed papers in with the dissertations on house pets and gardening tools, then turned to face her. My best friend. “So, are we on for The Room tonight? I talked Mike into meeting me there.”

“I thought you two were done.”

“Not quite,” I said. “I called him after you left, and we worked it out. We spent the weekend together.”

“He was with you all weekend, and now he wants to hang out with your friends? He must be into you,” Juliana said with a pointed look.
Of course he’s into me
, I wanted to shout.
He’s not a government spy, he wasn’t paid to like me! He wants me for me!

I took a deep breath, and mustered my slyest gaze. “Oh, he’s into me.”

Juliana laughed at that, attracting the attention of half the office with her high-pitched cackle. As she made her way back to her desk I was left wondering if her laugh, which had frazzled my nerves on more than one occasion, was some sort of signal to the rest, maybe code for `the jig is up, she knows’, but no one paid me any mind. Then again, they’d never paid me any mind, had they? Their indifference to me must have been part of the master plan.

Bastards.

I shuffled through my fake reports, sorting and filing them as I’d done countless times before. After half an hour of this, I surreptitiously nudged the printouts about Max and his prison into my bag. Fifteen minutes after that, Juliana finally headed to the ladies’ room; she has a bladder like a frickin’ camel. With a sigh of relief, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Almost as an afterthought, I turned and ripped down a picture of Sadie and me, the one personal item I’d kept at work, from my filing cabinet. Now, I could leave and be done with this place once and for all. Unbeknownst to me, a stinking river of slime was poised to block my escape.

“Hey, beautiful,” Floyd purred. “Where ya headed?”

“I need to run an errand,” I replied. “I’ll use it as my lunch.”

“Want me to come along?”

“Actually, I do.” He was almost as shocked to hear the words as I was saying them, but I didn’t give him time to think. “Yes, please join me for lunch.” I grabbed Floyd by the elbow and dragged him into the elevator. Luckily, it was a quick ride, and Floyd didn’t manage to regain the shreds of his composure until after the doors opened on the ground floor.

“Where ya takin’ me, baby?” he oozed. “Your place?”

“Yours is likely infested,” I muttered as I stalked out of the building. I was walking too quickly for his stubby legs to keep up, and he was doing this weird little skip-hop while he panted like a dog. Unfortunately, neither of these activities interfered with his voice. While he was describing the many disgusting things we could do while still in the parking lot, Micah appeared before us.

“What is this creature?” Lord Silverstrand demanded, his voice booming. Floyd blanched, and possibly wet himself.

“A pathetic worm, not worthy of your notice,” I replied, ignoring Floyd’s feeble protests. “This company is a sham. They were set up to spy on my family.”

Micah’s eyes flamed, and he grabbed the front of Floyd’s shirt. “Were you sent to harm my Sara?”

Amidst the babbling froth that erupted from Floyd, we deduced that he was little more than a hired thug. The operation, whatever this operation truly was, hadn’t entrusted him with more than the basic info needed to complete his job. Floyd’s mission was to hit on me constantly, and act as a filter to deter any men who approached me in public; it seemed that those in charge wanted me to stay single. With a pang, I wondered what had really happened with Bill.

“Would you like me to kill him?” Micah asked, once Floyd was done. Floyd, tough guy that he was, promptly fainted.

“I don’t think he’s worth the effort,” I murmured. I almost felt sorry for Floyd as Micah pushed his unconscious form into the Otherworld; he was just a man trying to earn enough to survive. Then I remembered a few of Floyd’s past comments, the drunken groping at The Room and sober groping in the break room, the never-ending propositions and innuendos, and all those sympathetic thoughts dried up and blew away. The Otherworld was a far better sentence than the creep deserved. After all, who knew what manner of beastie might beset him when he woke up? I hoped for a dragon. With talons. Long, shiny talons.

“Where are we going?” Micah asked.

“The Raven Compound,” I replied. “If we want to spring Max, we need real magic.” And I knew just where to get it.

Tires squealed and gravel flew as I hooked a tight corner into the Raven Compound’s driveway. Micah said nothing but clutched the dashboard in a white-knuckled grip, and he’d gone an unflattering shade of green.

“You okay?” I ventured. I parked my mechanical alongside the main house, and Micah gave an audible sigh of relief.

“I am now,” he muttered, leaping from the passenger seat onto solid ground. “Madwoman.” He said it affectionately, so I ignored the implication that my driving was less than perfect.

“My mother can be kind of intense,” I warned for the umpteenth time. By now, Micah probably thought I’d been borne by a hellbeast. “Just try to not let her get to you.”

“Is she also an Elemental?” Micah asked.