Black Lament Page 58
Bryson stared up at me with cold blue eyes. His gray hair was buzzed close to his head and he had the wiry, tough look of a lifelong soldier.
“What are you doing here, Bryson?” I asked conversationally.
“You know the answer to that, or else you wouldn’t have even suspected I was here,” he said. His voice was low and gravelly, like that guy who does the voiceovers for truck commercials.
“Were you supposed to just watch and report, or did Sokolov have something else in mind?” I asked.
Bryson said nothing.
“Right,” I said. “You can’t say.”
“If you’re going to kill me, do it now,” Bryson said. “You’ll get nothing from me by torture.”
“I’m not going to torture you,” I said, offended.
Bryson narrowed his eyes skeptically. “I saw what happened to the rat.”
“The rat was a demon, and it was spying on me,” I said. “I wouldn’t do that to another Agent.”
“I’m spying on you.”
“You act like you want me to set you on fire,” I said, annoyed. “Look, all I want is for you to back off. Go home and tell Sokolov that I stayed home all night like a good little girl.”
“That would be a violation of protocol,” Bryson said.
“Listen, what did Sokolov tell you I was up to?” I asked. “Because I’m not doing anything bad here. I’m trying to find and rescue the Agents that were kidnapped today.”
“You’ve been ordered to keep out of it,” Bryson said.
“Yeah, and the Agency won’t do anything to rescue those people. Does that really sit well with you?” I asked.
His mouth tightened, but he didn’t respond.
“So you don’t like it, either, but you won’t do anything about it. Is that it?”
Bryson continued with the silent treatment.
“Fine. If that’s how you’re going to be about it,” I said. “Tie him up and put him in the basement. Samiel and Nathaniel, take turns standing guard. And make sure you search him—I’m sure he’s got weapons in every pocket.”
“You will regret this,” Bryson said as Nathaniel hauled him to his feet.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I know that you’re under orders, and you think you can’t defy the Agency. So I’m not going to hurt you. But I can’t let you report back to Sokolov, either.”
His eyes burned as Nathaniel and Jude dragged him in the house, and I knew that I had made yet another enemy.
15
“HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP HIM HERE?” J.B. asked. “Sooner or later someone from the Agency will come looking for him.”
“Just until the morning,” I said. “That will give us time to search Chloe’s apartment.”
“And what then?” Jude asked.
“We’ll kick Bryson loose, and he’ll have to go back to Sokolov and say that he failed. But they’ll have no proof that I did anything wrong,” I said.
“What if we have to go into the Forbidden Lands?” J.B. said.
“If Bryson really wants to follow us into the Forbidden Lands, then he’s welcome to it. But I don’t think he’d be able to. We’d probably have to go through a portal, and we could easily prevent him from entering. So again, no proof that we’re doing anything wrong.”
“I don’t know,” J.B. said. “Somehow I don’t think Bryson or Sokolov are going to take this well.”
“I can’t worry about Bryson’s feelings,” I said. “Or Sokolov’s, for that matter. They’re the ones who came after me. I can either roll over and let them have their way, or I can defy them and save the missing Agents.”
J.B. scrubbed his hands through his hair, always a sign that he was under stress. “I know. But the fallout…”
“Will be what it will be. You knew that when you asked me to come downtown and see that massacre. You knew that I would go after Azazel.”
“But that was before the Agency sent one of their goons to threaten you,” J.B. said. “The stakes are higher now.”
“I’m not leaving Chloe, or any of the others, to Azazel,” I said steadily. “Bryson’s out of the picture for now. Let’s work the problem a step at a time.”
“Is this how you get through the day?” J.B. asked. “By only looking at what’s directly in front of you?”
“Since my typical day involves conspiracies of the fallen, Agency and faerie nature, regular attempts on my life and a cascade of shocking revelations, yes. If I tried to take in the big picture, I’d probably lose my mind.”
“So what are we doing now, then?” Beezle asked. He still sat on the railing of the porch. I’d forgotten he was even outside.
“You go inside and help Samiel and Nathaniel,” I said. “Me, Jude and J.B. will go to Chloe’s.”
“I’m not a guard dog,” Beezle sniffed.
“You know, your job description includes the words ‘home guardian.’”
“That’s not guarding the home. That’s guarding some guy who knows two thousand ways to kill me with a toothpick.”
“Look, I want you to do what you do best,” I said.
“Make nachos?” Beezle said hopefully.
“No. I want you to badger and annoy Bryson until he gives up information on Sokolov’s plans for me.”