Tom Dowd - Burning Bright

"Then tell me what happened."

"I'll tell you enough to send you on your way and leave all this to us."

"People keep telling me that, and I haven't listened yet."

She laughed. "You should."

"Go on."

"Generally, I and my kind find yours to be shallow, weak, ill-mannered, fearful, and devoid of worth," she told him. "We come here when the level of magic is right so that we can breed. We come here because there is more space. There are too many of us back home."

"So, don't breed."

"Ah, but Mr. Teller, it's what we do best." She winked, and Kyle began to feel a strange sensation of warmth.

"Those that you saw in the hospital, and perhaps later, use humanity as cattle. They see the possibility of using human flesh as humanity's only redeeming feature."

"Don't tell me you're different," Kyle said. "Mantids often eat their mates, if I remember my biology right."

"From consumption comes new life," she told him.

"Did Mitch know about that part?"

"He did," she told him, "but he was safe."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "I discovered, much to my own dismay, that when it came time to invest him with a male spirit I did not want to. I had grown too fond of him."

When Kyle said nothing, it seemed to make her angry. "I really don't care what you think. I'm here to tell you to stop interfering. The queens took Mitch from us so that they could learn what forms we took and what our plans were. The queens destroyed Mitchell Truman, and I intend to destroy them for it."

"The queens?"

"Think about it," she said.

"If they, whoever they are, and not you, did that to him in the first place, why would they want to grab him back? His mind was gone. There was nothing they could learn from him."

"I don't think they knew that," she told him. "I think he refused to talk. I think he wouldn't tell them about us or where we could be found." Her voice became sad and quiet for a moment.

"That was stupid. He should have told them." He watched her, surprised in some ways at how human she seemed. "When he wouldn't betray us, they tried to possess him. They tried to invest him with one of their own larvae spiritis, hoping the merge would be good and his memories would be relatively intact. Then he would be theirs and they'd know everything they needed to know."

"He tried to meet with his sister the night he was found with his mind gone."

Her head tilted oddly. "Really? I didn't know that. Perhaps he broke free and they tried to invest him as punishment."

"But why grab him again?"

"They may not have known the final outcome," she said. "In fact, they probably assumed he'd retained his mind. How else could he have run away again?”

"Indeed," Kyle said.

"I saw him after the police found him, at the first hospital. There were fragments of his mind still there. Tiny twisted flames sputtering in the darkness. He actually seemed to recognize me. I doused the fragments so that he might rest."

"How kind of you."

She grew angry again. "Yes, actually. Uncommonly kind of me. I think he resisted the investiture and fled, his mind unraveling and disintegrating as he did. I gave him release." Again Kyle said nothing.

She paused, seeming to be gathering up her composure. "I've told you why I came here. You have no need to pursue Mitch's flesh body. They probably ate it once they found his mind was gone. Perhaps they even tried another investiture into the empty host. I don't know. The point is, your concerns and the Truman family's concerns are at an end. I will avenge Mitchell Truman."

"I'll pass on your message."

"You do that," she said. "And remember, Mr. Teller, you and your kind are mine whenever I want you. And want you I will if you get in my way again." With that she turned and passed through the door without opening it.

Kyle stood there blankly for a few moments and then sat down slowly in the chair that had been positioned between him and Linda Hayward. He knew he had to center himself and calm his body. It took a long time.

As Kyle and the two cars escorting his pulled into the supermarket parking lot at Western and North, an Eagle Security helicopter was dropping into the area that had been cordoned off by a phalanx of police and security vehicles. Enough Truman guards were mixed in with the Eagle troopers that Kyle's motorcade was waved directly into the center of the area, alongside a huge armored police command van.

Kyle jumped out even before the vehicle had stopped, protecting his eyes against the bits of flying debris kicked up by the landing helicopter. Beyond it, Eagle officers were attempting to clear away the small crowd of gawkers that had begun to gather. Kyle wondered if any of them were secretly from Knight Errant.

The side door of the command van slid open sideways, and Hanna Uljaken waved from inside. Kyle hurried over and climbed into the red-lit interior.

Cramped together within were a small technical staff and four Eagle officers. One bore the clear insignia and simple uniform of a chief, but Kyle's untrained eyes could not decipher the ranks of the other three, who were decked out in dark, close-fitting body armor and associated weaponry and gear.

The chief stepped forward and extended his hand. "Mr. Teller, I'm Chief Lekas of Eagle Special Operations." He gestured at the other three. "This is Commander Joshua Malley, leader of the Special Ops team," he said, working his way from left to right, "and Sergeants Peter Woodhouse and Kennera Walsh, also of Special Ops." Each nodded in turn.

Kyle shook all of their hands. 'Thank you for responding so quickly."

"It's quite a tale your Ms. Uljaken has been telling us," Malley said. "You don't mind if we ask a few clarifying questions, do you?"

Kyle shook his head. "No, not at all, but I'm concerned about time. They may have already moved on."

Malley turned to the other two men. "Go ahead," he said.

Walsh spoke first. "We haven't had time to verify any of the story. Can you tell us your qualifications to assess the situation?" Walsh gestured vaguely to Hanna Uljaken. "Ms. Uljaken has told us some of your background, but we'd like to know more."

Kyle frowned slightly, wondering whether they were going to start playing "who's the boss" games with him. Aloud, he said, "Of course. I have a degree in comparative metaphysics from Columbia-Manhattan with a minor in behavioral psychology. My practical experience includes seven years as a field agent and special investigator with the UCAS Federal Bureau of Investigation, Department of Paranormal Affairs. If you're so stuck on my cred, I can give-"

Woodhouse held up his hand in a halt gesture. 'That won't be necessary," he said. "You're the one found Wilhemina Keene, aren't you?"

Kyle paused. "Yes." Keene had been a registered nurse and adept mage performing ritual sacrifices with newborn babies stolen from hospitals throughout New England. She killed twelve before the FBI finally caught up with her on the verge of murdering her thirteenth, the final element in whatever bizarre ritual she'd been performing. Her ultimate goal had never been determined. That was five years ago. "Maybe I should say I led the team."

"We saw the locked file last year as part of a special training program," Woodhouse said. "Can you tell me what her primary ritual instrument was?"

"Now what the frag does this have to do-"

Chief Lekas cut him off. "Mr. Teller, Truman Technologies is asking quite a bit from Eagle on this. And most of it has to be taken on faith, if you will. We'd like to confirm that you are who you say you are. If so, we're ready to roll. If not, well…" Lekas let his voice trail off. "The boys tell me that the Keene woman's actual methods were never disclosed to the public, but you, of course, would know."