Episode 7 - The Horned Hare

  Chapter 65 - Operation: Gilded Pearls (4)

  Pell’s markings glow teal as she works on the electronic lock of the penthouse apartment. Rhett undoes the button on his jacket one-handed, slipping his fist up under his armpit to grip the handgun I know is concealed there. He tucks close to the door. “Can you see? Are we clear?” He asks in a low whisper.

  Pooka had been waiting on the balcony, his head pulled into the feathers of his neck, watching the Caracal and two humans continue their journey across the sky. He turns to look into the apartment again, and I can see the woman's restless pacing. Her bags are discarded, leaning against the door. I can’t see the Lepus.

  “I hear you. Little insects come crawling.”

  The husky singsong voice of the Lepus speaks disembodied, so close to me as if it were right in my ear like a Vespa. Rhett suddenly stiffens. It’s not just me then, as I suspected when she spoke to the woman in the apartment beyond, this cryptid is not only capable of speech, but speech that is audible to those not bonded to it.

  “We’re not here to hurt her,” I say aloud, pressing my ear to the door. It must be just on the other side, listening to us too.

  “Then why come here? Why the sneak? Why the stalking?”

  I look Rhett in the eye, and he meets me back. He’s unreadable, his head cocked slightly as he strains to listen like I do, his free fist curled with tension.

  “We’re here to help. I’m coming in.”

  The door lock clicks just as I finish speaking, and Pell withdraws. I place a hand on the handle, slowly turn it downwards, then step through.

  The jackalope sits perfectly still in the middle of the hallway, regarding me with round pupils and a proudly arched head. Her ears are straight and tall, turned directly to me as she waits. Up close, her antlers are unnaturally sharp, gleaming as if they were polished to deadly points. She bounces to all four feet with supernatural speed, head lowering to point those antlers at me, and I see her mouth move as she speaks again. “Speak! Little gnat. Speak quick, little fly. Or I will pounce.”

  I will destroy you first.

  I raise both palms. “I’m not here to hurt you,” I call loudly, hoping that the woman hears me as well. “I know Covertus is coming for you.”

  “Are you here to stop them?” calls a desperate voice from deeper in the apartment.

  “No!” I say, watching the Lepus twitch as she decides what to do next. “No. I’m just here to make sure you get away. Please.”

  The woman peeks her head around the end of the hallway. I can see the shadows of her bruises from here, patchy yellows that might have just been a blemish on her olive skin if not for the split lip. “Who are you?”

  “We work for Aquila-” suddenly commands Rhett from behind me. He steps clearly into view, both hands raised where the woman can see them as well. He takes a cautious sideways step past me.

  “No!” screams the woman suddenly, withdrawing. “He sent you! I thought I did everything right-”

  “Hey, hey!” yells Rhett, his attention fully focused on the woman as he continues to stalk forward.

  The Lepus lunges in place, one forepaw swatting at the air in our direction and tail behind her erect. She opens her mouth, revealing four flat incisors and pink gums as she hisses.

  “Rhett!” I call in warning.

  They are almost here, warns Pooka in my ear. I catch a glimpse with his eyes, the metal platform lowering outside by the roof deck. Red jumps down before it even lands. His knees shake as he lands, and he almost loses his footing, then with a stumble he’s up again and runs to the sliding doors into the apartment’s living room. Up close, he seems too skinny and shaky to be a combat orientated field agent. With Pooka’s eyes, I see him rattle the door, and with my ears I hear the shaking from inside.

  “I’m not going to touch you,” says Rhett calmly, ignorant of the symbiont threat at his feet and eyes on the woman. “You have my word. If you want to leave… you can leave.”

  The woman pauses, clutching at the front of her gown, and fully steps into view.

  Rhett continues. “I promise you. Aquila is not in the business of keeping people against their will. Can I come in?”

  I take a breath as those words shake me unexpectedly, bracing myself against the hallway wall. The fear I felt before returns, a sudden awareness of that small tight wound in my back. A bitter feeling at the base of my throat bubbles. I swallow. I’m better than petty jealousy of this woman. I’m doing the right thing.

  The banging at the sliding door continues.

  “You don’t work for him?” She’s backing up now. We make progress out of the hallway.

  “Technically I do,” and as she flinches Rhett continues forward, voice steady as he matches her steps, keeping his distance from her but slowly easing us back into open areas. The hallway expands into the wide space of the living room. Not even Rhett’s apartment was this spacious, with rich fabrics on the couches, and a private kitchenette at one side. The large windows are framed with velvet curtains in a rich, dark red fabric. “That was until we saw your situation. We were not told what the target of our counter-operation was.”

  With Pooka’s eyes, I watch the Caracal cross the roof deck, Yellow behind him. Sparks jump from the Caracal’s ears, the door finally slides, and both Covertus agents come bolting through. Pooka tucks his wings close and dives against the ground, form shifting, paws digging into the clover lawn as he comes pounding after them.

  “Aoife!” cries Red.

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  The woman turns from us both, tears of relief suddenly swelling in the corners of her eyes. “Sloane, brother!”

  Red sweeps into her, ignorant of our confrontation, and scoops her into a hug. “Aoife. We came. We came. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Shh, shh, I’m so sorry.” His hands are tangled in her hair, holding her head to his chest. Her feet are not even on the ground, his hug is so tight.

  The strange bitterness in my throat only twists tighter.

  Yellow isn’t far behind, Caracal now at her side. “Quick, reunions later, I-” she cuts off suddenly as she sees Rhett and me. Her reaction time is admirably quick, drawing a handgun and training it on Rhett.

  We snarl, and the temperature drops instantly. Frost flowers on the ceiling above us, crystals crawling on the windows in delicate filigree patterns. Yellow yelps as her hands suddenly tighten on an object that no longer holds up to her grip, and the gun in her hands crumbles to rust, live ammunition and polymer handle tumbling between her fingers.

  “Eyes on me,” barks Rhett with instant authority. “I have nothing in my hands!”

  “What do you want?” screams Yellow, the tension in the room spiraling. I feel frozen in place, as if the frost crawls on me. The bitterness in my mouth turns my stomach. Pooka’s vision splinters mine with flashing images of myself as he draws closer and I begin to lose track of my mind. I don’t know how to deescalate. All I can feel is my heart in my chest.

  “You’re not stopping us!” yells Red over his sister’s shoulder.

  “I’m not-” replies Rhett.

  “He’s a monster! We never agreed to this.”

  “I said-”

  The Lepus opens her mouth, incisors extended and tiny rounded tongue lifted as she continues to hiss. She’s perched on the very tips of all four legs, her long hind limbs extended as if she will leap at any moment. Pooka stands across the room between the Covertus agents and the exit, his fur bristles, and lips curl back from white fangs. Black fog bubbles over his tongue, sparks jumping between pointed teeth.

  “I said, eyes on me!” roars Rhett. “You hear me!”

  Only Pooka’s snarl remains in the silence. I can see with his eyes, trained on the Lepus.

  “Now listen to me,” says Rhett, moving with an exaggerated smoothness as he raises his hands. His palms are open, fingers spread. “I will not point a gun at you. But she doesn’t need to!” He points one finger across the room at me; each word he speaks lands with absolute confidence. “You move wrong, and she will kill you.”

  I must look like anything but the weapon he declares me to be, frozen in place with eyes darting between them all. How can he be so in control in the center of it all? Pooka punctuates Rhett’s words with a whooping yowl from the doorway. The Lepus twitches backwards and down into a submissive bow, her eyes rolling to show the whites on the edges as her whole posture changes. Her ears strain forward in Pooka’s direction, and Red seems to grow pale.

  “So listen to me,” continues Rhett. “Okay. We are not stopping you. It is true we were hired to counter this, but we were not informed of all details, it seems. You are free to go. But go quick.”

  Yellow pauses.

  “Go quick. Are you listening? Now.”

  Red untangles his sister from his arms, passing her across the room to Yellow. “You work for Aquila?” he asks slowly, not watching his sister cross the room.

  “Yes. And you work for Covertus.”

  “Yes, I-” The Lepus twists her ears, turning them towards a corridor behind her. Red’s demeanour shifts from suspicion to anger with a snarl. “Call off your men! I thought you said you weren’t stopping us.”

  With Pooka’s eyes, I can see down the corridor, green LEDs flashing numbers counting up above a set of double doors. We came up the stairwell, but someone else must have taken the elevator.

  "What are-?" Rhett looks at me and he pales, his mask slipping. Fuck. Nessa was ordered to back us up.

  “Go!” commands Rhett again. “Go, we’ll handle this!”

  The elevator dings. The double doors open. Dressed in black, Nessa and two security guards burst through. Nessa’s Felis hisses as it bounds through underneath their feet, back arched and golden tail puffed.

  "Get Aoife out!" screams Red.

  The Lepus uncoils like a spring, exploding across the room at supernatural speeds even Pooka couldn't match. Head lowered, she pierces through the first guard, tearing through their thin body armor. The man goes down, his bowels spilling before the rest of him like wet rope. Red gore splatters on rich beige carpets like ink.

  She rebounds with a kick of her legs, tossing her horns into the back of the next guard’s thigh. He doubles as his muscles are sliced through, falling backwards with a scream. Shreds of him hang from the Lepus’ antlers as she darts free again.

  Pooka roars, and surges forward as deep black fog. Like a rushing tide, he parts on either side of Yellow and the woman, and rockets across the room.

  Too late. The Lepus turns her horns on Nessa next. She leaps upwards, chin tucked and pointed tips vicious. The very front of her antlers catch Nessa in the gut. Nessa is still mid-pivot, mouth hanging open, barely processing the speed at which things have erupted into sanguine chaos.

  As momentum carries the Lepus higher, the tips dig deeper and the next set of points find their mark. Nessa’s body armor might as well have been sheer fabric.

  “Nessa, no!” roars Rhett.

  Pooka, all stretching paws and teeth, crashes into the Lepus and they both roll off Nessa, tumbling into a wall in a ball of crackling energies and sparks. Pooka snarls. The Lepus tips its horns, digging fist-sized chunks of plaster from the wall as it flails. Valiantly, it boxes and kicks with tiny claws against Pooka’s overwhelming strength. But its small size is no match, and Pooka stands over her howling and snapping his jaws, back arched and tail erect.

  Rhett skids across the room and drags Nessa from the other two bodies to clear some space for her. The guards lay where they fell, one even getting a well-placed kick in their limp torso from Rhett as he untangles Nessa. His hands desperately fumble at Nessa’s wounds. “Get me that curtain, anything, now!” he commands, not looking up at me. There is so much blood rising between his fingers.

  Nessa is already so pale, her body shaking as her eyes roll backwards in her skull. Her symbiont yowls, a bowel-clenching scream as if it shares her pain. It must. The sound finally shocks me out of my stupor. I tear a velvet red curtain from the wall, rod and everything coming with me, and drag it over to Rhett, who immediately begins packing it into the widest of the wounds. Nessa is trembling, but in a way that terrifies me. More like the reckless firing of dying nerves than coordinated movement. Her eyes aren’t open. There’s blood coming out of her mouth now. It drips down her jaw, bubbles out of her nose.

  Red blood, red curtains. Red stains on the floor. I’ve never seen so much blood.

  Rhett wipes blood across his brow as he keeps on working. He doesn’t look at Nessa’s face. He doesn’t look at me. His eyes stay on the growing red mess as he packs each wound. His fingernails are black with gore.

  Nessa’s symbiont continues its cries.