The Sleeper and the Silverblood
The Handler and His Spy

Kitara waited patiently for Devika to join their video conference the next afternoon.

“Hey, sorry, I had a meeting run late.”

The Sleeper smiled at her friend as she appeared on the screen. “No worries, I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

Devika nodded. “Sure. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all right. Totally random question,” Kitara said slowly. “You seen Storm or his blond friend around at all today?”

“Declan?”

“Yeah.”

Devika’s brow furrowed. “Declan was with Alasdair at lunch. Why?”

Despite herself, Kitara was relieved. “I…saw them out the night before last. Wanted to make sure they got back alive.”

“Stars, out in your part of town?”

“Yeah, the Netherlings chased them out quick.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It was monumentally stupid, but my cover’s still intact.”

“What the hell were they doing out there?”

Kitara rolled her eyes. “Storm doesn’t trust me. Figured he should pop in for a chat. I set him straight fast.”

“Idiot,” Devika muttered.

Kitara drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “I need your help with something.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“There’s a new General down here—Itzal. A contact mentioned him last night, and it’s news to me. I’d like to find out if the AIDO knows anything about him before I send out a report.”

Devika nodded, her expression eager. “Of course, I’ll see if there’s anything I can find on him.” She began to type on her keyboard, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Initial results here…let’s see. Looks like he’s mentioned briefly in the last world war, but only in a skirmish. He’s got some impressive power—which they don’t elaborate on, of course,” she added, glancing up at her friend through the monitor with a rueful smile. “I’ll run a broader search, but that will take a bit longer. I can call you with the results once I have them?”

Kitara leaned back again. “No rush, but yeah, if you don’t mind. Rumor is this General has developed an interest in the Doruri. Maybe…maybe even in attempting to restore them.”

“That’s impossible.”

“That’s what I said. But if I can find anything of merit, it may open some doors for me out here.”

Devika rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “The Felling process is classified,” she said. “The earliest mention of it goes back to the Ninthëvels’ rebellion. However they do it, it started there.”

Kitara sighed. “And we might as well send Itzal a polite request to explain his master plan if that’s the case. Nobody has the same story about what happened.”

“I’ve actually been researching the rebellion,” Devika said. “Thinking I might be able to write a dissertation or something about it. Historian stuff, you know. It started with looking into the Myragnar, why they retreated into Myragos and never came out again. The Myragnar allied with Valëtyria to defeat them, which led to their eventual victory. None of the Ninthëvels survived—they either died in battle or were executed after.”

Kitara nodded. “But something happened after that, and the Myragnar disappeared.”

“Yes. And you’re right, nobody seems to have the same story about why.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming…”

The Historian snorted. “But I looked into the censuses for anyone who might have been alive around the same time, maybe see if they’d talk to me. And there are some, but nobody who would probably know the true story. They were too young at the time, some of them infants.”

“But you found someone?” Kitara leaned forward.

“Not exactly. It’s…kinda bizarrely complicated.”

“Tell me, Dev.”

Devika glanced around, like she wanted to ensure no one overheard her, then leaned forward. “There’s only one immortal left outside of the Myragnar still in Myragos, and who knows how many of them are still alive.”

“We don’t die of natural causes,” Kitara hazarded. “How is it there’s only one left?”

“They were killed or disappeared,” Devika said. “The last immortal? It’s Ilythia Avensäel—Storm’s mom.”

Kitara sat back a little. “Shit, that does complicate things.”

“Not in the way you think it does.”

“Then…what is it?” Kitara asked.

“No one can talk to her. She’s been comatose in Valëtyria’s long-term care facility for nearly half a century.”

“She—what? How? How has a Myragnar been compromised for so long?”

“Nobody can figure out what’s wrong with her,” Devika replied. “Apparently it’s baffled even the comprehensive Healers.”

“How did it happen?”

“Another question mark. I can’t find any reports about the cause.”

“Stars, no wonder Storm’s in such a terrible mood all the time,” Kitara muttered. “Overbearing father, comatose mother? I’d be in a bad mood too.” Devika snorted, and Kitara flashed her a wry half-smile. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“So how does this help us?” Kitara asked. “We still don’t know anyone who might have answers.”

“At the time, I chalked it up to an interesting—if depressing—anecdote and moved on,” Devika admitted. “But in hindsight, I thought it was odd. One of the most powerful immortals alive—maybe one of the only immortals old enough to remember the Ninthëvels—is unable to tell anyone anything about it because of a mysterious coma someone conveniently forgot to file a report about.”

Kitara blinked, then her brow furrowed. “You think…there’s more to it than that?”

“I don’t know, I’m just speculating. But with that in mind, there might be two people who heard directly from her what happened.”

Kitara sighed. “Cornelius and Storm. Like you said: bizarrely complicated.”

“Exactly. I’ll leave it up to you how you want to handle that information.”

The Sleeper rubbed the back of her neck. “If I can work out the kinks in our relationship, I might be able to ask him if she ever talked about that time. Not sure I’m comfortable broaching a subject so…personal with him.”

“That’s fair.”

“But until then, maybe…if you can find out more about Storm’s mother, or what happened to her, it will give us a starting point to work backward to the first Fallen.”

Devika nodded. “I can do that. I’ll put in a request for some materials and see what I can find.”

Kitara smiled. “You’re the best, Dev. It’s a long shot, but if the Fallen emerged around that time, it could possibly be related.”

“Occam’s Razor,” Devika replied with a shrug. “Human, yes. But accurate? Also yes. I can request access to the Fallen archives too.”

“Those need special clearance, right?”

“Yeah, but it will be in line with my research into the Ninthëvels, so I don’t think it will raise any flags.”

Kitara raised an eyebrow. “You’re not doing something illegal or that could get you fired, right?”

“No,” Devika said, shaking her head. “But they are pretty selective about who has access, and it’s usually only temporary.”

“Okay, but you’ll let me know if you’re approved?”

“Of course.” The Historian hesitated. “Any chance you’re going to visit soon?”

“Probably not, we’ll have to talk about it over video. Why, are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I just miss you.”

Kitara smiled. “I miss you too. You’re not spending too much time sequestered in the library, are you?”

“No, and everyone here is really nice. Say what you will about Storm, but Alasdair and Zayne are both cool.”

Kitara raised an eyebrow. “I’d argue their choice of friends leaves something to be desired. Just be careful.”

Devika shrugged. “I think it’s probably habit. Declan, Zayne, and Storm all attended the Academy together, and Alasdair and Declan have family on the High Council too.”

The Sleeper’s expression sobered. “Who?”

“Alasdair’s brother is the High Guardian, and the High Technologist is Declan’s uncle.”

Kitara blinked. “William and Tyrrell?”

“Guess so.”

“True family?”

“As far as I know. Alasdair told me his parents submitted genetic material twice, so that makes him and William truly related, I suppose. I don’t know anything more about Declan, really.”

“Hm. Well, High Council brats, plus that whole Academy brotherhood thing…” Kitara snapped off a mocking salute. “I guess it’s natural they still hang out.”

“The other guys aren’t so bad,” Devika hazarded. “I mean, Declan’s a typical Guardian jock type, but Alasdair and Zayne are both well-read. Sometimes I think Alasdair asks me questions just to try and stump me, and I get the impression Zayne was more of a bookworm too, before he became an Ambassador.”

“If you say so,” Kitara replied, her smile returning.

Devika glanced up over her computer monitor, her expression sobering. “Philemon’s back—I have to go.”

“Okay. Love you, Dev.”

“You too.”

A few nights later, the pale light of the moon illuminated the high fence that surrounded the AIDO. A dozen yards away, Storm willed himself to blend in with the midnight shadows as the sound of boots crunching on gravel approached. He silently counted the footsteps of the patrolling Guardians as they passed. When they were out of sight, he vaulted over the fence and began his mile-long journey through rough terrain.

Upon reaching a clearing, he unfurled his massive silver-white wings, which reflected the moonlight and cast a soft sheen across his dark clothing. Storm launched himself into the dark sky, muscling the cold air currents beneath him. As he flew, he considered his plan. He’d need to hide his wings when he landed and entered the dark strip. While he had briefly considered trying to pass for a vampire using red contacts, too much else would belie the red eyes: like a beating heart, for example. Without black wings, masquerading as a Valorn was out. He’d just have to take his chances in wingless form.

Following his ill-fated outing with Declan, Storm wasn’t about to let some Sleeper with a god complex order him to stay home like a sniveling child.

His ego hadn’t been so bruised since the Academy. After she’d explained her infiltration plan, Storm had to admit it made sense. If he’d considered it without his dislike of the Sleeper coloring his opinion, he might have recognized its potential.

When Storm sensed her aura again after he and Declan were tossed from the bar, he attributed it to hypersensitivity when they noticed the pack behind them. Then she appeared when the demons converged.

How did she do that? Was invisibility a skill they taught Sleepers? Declan hadn’t noticed her, so how did he know she was there? Storm assumed it was her aura, but she—or rather, a shadowy figure like her—had eliminated the demon that stabbed Declan as he stretched out a hand to fry said demon.

Storm was only a bit disappointed the arc of power missed her, too.

The lack of answers irked him. He might have let it go, but her aura intrigued him, along with her apparent ability to make herself invisible. Asking his dad would only invite scrutiny Storm didn’t want. The High Councilor wouldn’t hesitate to confine him to Valëtyria if he suspected Storm had left the facility. He noticed Kitara bristling at the mention of his father too. There was something else going on there.

Loath as he was to admit it, she remained his only other source of answers. He’d never heard of an immortal capable of invisibility before—especially not one with Fallen genes. Actually, as far as he knew, the Fallen couldn’t have kids at all, even artificially. And he still wasn’t sure about the extent of the Historian’s past relationship with his agent, so he didn’t dare use the library for the moment.

After landing outside the dark strip, Storm shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and kept his head down. Adrenaline hummed in his veins as he warily stepped forward. Eyes followed his every move, unsure what a Valëtyrian was doing in their territory. Likely wondering what made him so fearless he would risk brutal exsanguination at their hands, then probably deciding it was best to leave him alone.

The pack of demons came to mind, and Storm scowled. If only Declan hadn’t been stabbed… he thought he had the situation in hand until then. But Declan didn’t have the same long-distance range of power Storm did—the Guardian’s psionic defensive abilities required direct contact.

And then there was Kitara.

Maybe the Sleeper program equipped her with some top-secret advanced tech—it wasn’t out of the question. But if so, as her handler, why didn’t he know about it?

For Storm, tonight was a test of sorts to confirm he really had sensed her following them, invisible: a test easily proven as he lifted his head to scan the street outside The Sanguine Queen. Her aura resounded through the supernatural darkness, warm and golden—an enigmatic electricity that jolted his senses and resonated with his soul. It was a beacon, calling out to him from the midst of this enemy territory. Could anyone else sense it the way he did?

For the sake of the op, he hoped not.

The temptation to defy her warred with his longing for understanding, for answers. Either way, he needed to return to the dark strip again, though he didn’t fully know yet whether he did so out of spite or in search of answers.

And if a secret part of him also yearned for the feeling of her aura again…he would never allow himself to acknowledge it. Not even in the privacy of his own thoughts.

Kitara lounged against the bar at The Sanguine Queen. Scarlet and Jamal were handling coven business, and Baylen hadn’t made an appearance, so Blake would have to do. “You’re a bartender,” she wheedled, as she’d been doing for the better part of a half hour. “You must have loads of valuable information.”

Blake poured shots for another group of immortals. “Depends on what you think is valuable. I could probably point you in the direction of some stocks…”

“Ha ha, fuck you,” Kitara snarked as he approached to refill her glass.

“You wish.”

She snorted. She actually liked the bartender, which was a shame. If he worked within the Maker’s network, it made him an enemy. The jury was still out on Baylen. “What about the General and his militia? No one seems to know what they’re actually doing.”

Blake shrugged. “Following orders, I suspect. He’s commanding the army, that’s the extent of what I know about him.”

“But who’s commanding him?”

“No one knows. Whoever it is, though, they have enough power to organize the military yet still remain unknown. Not an easy thing to do in a world of secret bartering.”

“The Maker?” Kitara guessed.

Blake collected another handful of empty glasses and dunked them into the sink behind the bar. “Could be, but like I said, I don’t know. Even if it was, he’d never let on it was him. The guy’s a complete enigma.”

“The General has been around though, right? I might be new, but surely there’s a reason everyone’s falling in line behind him.”

“Why so curious?” Blake asked. “You looking to join the militia?”

Kitara sipped her drink. “Dunno, maybe. Maybe he knows the Maker.”

Whatever was going on with the Doruri, Blake either didn’t know or refused to admit. “They wouldn’t take Doruri,” he said. “Have to be Valorn at least, and definitely not freshly bloodied. You wouldn’t get anywhere.”

“Worth a shot.”

The aura hit Kitara from behind and she flinched, nearly dropping her drink. She turned.

Storm had taken more care to blend in tonight. His normally styled hair was windswept by his flight from the AIDO. Kitara’s gaze followed the lines of his shoulders beneath his leather jacket. She swallowed, momentarily distracted by his black shirt clinging to the carved planes of his chest and stomach—

Until she remembered where they were, and who he was.

And why she would so kill him if he made it out of this place alive.

Storm’s eyes barely flickered in her direction as he squared up to the bar a few feet away. Blake approached warily, and Storm ordered something. Kitara couldn’t quite make out what.

After observing the angel for a tense moment, Blake served him a drink and sent him on his way.

“He’s got balls, I’ll give him that,” Blake muttered.

“What is he doing here?” Kitara asked the same question as the night before.

“Drinking, looks like.” The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You got a problem with that?”

“No, it’s just that…I mean he’s an angel, right?”

“Don’t worry about him, Sabine. I guarantee the angel’s got better things to do than invest time sweet-talking your crazy ass.”

Despite her tension, Kitara laughed. “You saying I’m a bad investment?”

“Almost definitely,” the bartender replied wryly.

She sighed. “Don’t suggest me to any stockholders, then.”

Storm ignored her as he took a seat further down the bar. He didn’t exhibit her level of subtlety while mixing a packet of anti-toxin into his drink, but for a non-agent, she had to admit no one would probably notice unless actively watching for it.

He’s still an idiot, though.

The other patrons gave Storm a wide berth. Kitara’s heart rate spiked as she stressed about the situation…and if it might result in the death of them both.

Even worse, his aura radiated off him in silver-white waves, beckoning her to draw closer even though she needed to put as much distance between them as she could—for his safety and hers.

Okay silverblood, you’ve got my attention. Here’s hoping you live long enough to tell me why the hell you want it so badly.

After paying her tab with a nod to Blake, Kitara slipped outside to lurk nearby until the silverblood deigned to leave again. Outside, shrouded by the darkness of night, her power concealed her, and she settled in to wait.

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.