Banshee Hunt (16 page)

Really though James thought, with one of their number dead and another captured they should have been more wary. Assuming they knew of course. They might not. The news still wasn't reporting the name of the dead giant. They couldn't when no one other than his office knew it. And the fascinator might not have told the others. Then again most of the people in the church could have been regular church going attendees. Perhaps it was only a few among them who were involved? Only time would reveal that.

He soon spotted his quarry sitting about six or seven rows in front of him, talking to an Asian woman. James recognised that dark, long hair of his in a heartbeat. But he didn't know the woman he was talking to. And when she looked around at the other attendees and revealed her face, he thought he should. There was something about her that made him wonder. He began to wonder even more when he saw her whispering into Sza's ear.

Could she be the fascinator? James didn't know, but he instantly suspected she might be. Though it could have been just casual conversation, there was just something about the way she whispered into Sza's ear that gave him pause. It seemed too familiar perhaps when the two of them were obviously very different. It wasn't just their ethnicities. It was their social position. Sza was dressed as a working man. Neatly dressed for a Sunday service but not in a suit and tie. Meanwhile the woman was obviously from a much higher social strata. One where they wore finery to church including pearl necklaces, gold chains and high fashion. Really, she could have been attending a gala had she been wearing the right hat. Then again maybe it was the fact that when she whispered into Sza's ear he didn't seem to notice. James decided then and there that this was a woman he very much wanted to speak to in due course.

But he couldn't do it just then. Not when the priest walked out and the service began. It was a traditional service, starting with songs from the hymn book, and then prayers and readings, before the priest's sermon. All in all it struck James as very normal. Even the sermon itself was normal. Nothing was said about the struggle of these new migrants in the land. Nothing about the Illuminati either nor the two missing members of the congregation. But then as the service continued James began to realise that the church wasn't behind the attacks.

It was the woman. Throughout the service he watched her move from one parishioner to the next, something that shouldn't happen but which no one complained about. Seemingly she was just talking to them, but always he noticed, touching their hand lightly with her fingers and whispering into their ears at some point. And no one seemed to notice. Little by little he became more convinced that she was the fascinator and the church was merely her hunting ground. But he still didn't know who she was.

She was on the shorter side, perhaps only just over five feet tall, and of thin build. In age he would have put her in her fifties with dark hair tied back in some sort of bun. There was nothing particularly distinctive about her save for the money she openly wore on her person. Money that set her very far apart from everyone else in the church.

When he could James discretely took photos of her and the people she was speaking with. How useful the shots would be he didn't know. It was hard to take pictures of someone's face without them realising that they were being snapped. And as he was at the back of the church he mostly seemed to be getting the backs of people's heads. Those outside he hoped would get more. All he had to do was give them enough detail to recognise them.

One thing slowly became obvious though as the service progressed. This wasn't going to be as bad as he'd feared. He had come here expecting to have to take down at least half the congregation and the priest. He had expected a fight. It looked like instead he had one Asian woman and half a dozen others that needed to be taken into custody. This could be easier than he'd expected. The worst thing he had to do during the entire sermon was throw some bills in the collection plate when it was passed around. That was a much better scenario than what he'd feared.

Still, when the service ended he was tense. This was the time when if something was going to go wrong it would. Those outside needed to be prepared. Because depending on how things went they might have to come rushing in. Or they might have to set up a perimeter and try to catch those who tried to flee.

It ended peacefully enough though. The priest having finished the service thanked everyone for attending and walked down the aisle to the front entrance. And then the people started filing out. Things seemed organised and relaxed. Nothing seemed out of place. And even though he had his phone recording them, barely anyone even looked at him.

Until the Asian woman walked down the aisle and spotted him recording her.

In a heartbeat everything changed. He could see it in her face. There was shock, alarm and then anger, all in a single second. And then she screamed.

The sound was wordless. Meaningless to James save for the fact that it hurt his ears. But it meant something to others. To the half dozen or so he had seen her talking to. They understood. And he understood it too when he saw a fireball streaking toward his head.

All hell broke loose in the church, and he had no time to worry about anything other than survival. The wards placed on him would protect him from the direct effects of magic. So the detonator could not blow him up and the fire starter not set him alight. But they wouldn't stop him from being killed by an explosion or a fireball. He leapt over the back of the pew while the fireball demolished the wall beside where he'd been sitting. And then he drew his gun and shot the man. It wasn't a good shot, catching him in the shoulder, but it still spun him around and sent him falling backwards screaming. He would not be causing him any more trouble.

But others would.

Without any warning the ceiling exploded in a burst of fury above his head, and even while James leapt out of the way, lightning flashed across the entire room. Meanwhile the other parishioners were running and screaming, adding confusion to the entire disaster. But that was for the best as while they ran in all directions they bought James a little time. Enough to vault over the back of the pew and find the floor behind it. Enough to then train his weapon on Sza who was hunting for him in the confusion. Once James put a bullet in Sza’s hip though the detonator forgot about everything other than the pain and fell to the ground.

Bullets were good. Better than the stupid magic weapon the Illuminati wanted him to use. For a start almost none of the gifted were immune to bullets and when they got hit the pain robbed most of the witches and wizards of their ability to cast.

He should be calling for back up James thought. But in the noise and confusion he didn't think anything he said to them would have been able to be heard. And it might give his position away if he shouted. Besides they had already had enough warning. The churches windows had been blown out. They had to have seen that,

Smoke started filling the church. Lots of it, all thick and black, and that added to the chaos. It also worked in James' favour as the rest of the fascinator’s pawns couldn't come after him as an organised group. Still, the first of the others managed to find him while he was still crouched on the floor. But even as the man leapt on him, arms outstretched and fingers curved like talons, James rolled and the man hit the floor instead. Before he could get up James kicked him in the head. The man might be under the control of some sort of rage compulsion, but that hadn't made him very smart as far as fighters went.

Three down. James congratulated himself on that and started to get up. But before he made it all the way a young woman came running up from out of nowhere and leapt on him as the lightning flashed once more. She managed to get a punch in, but really, even with all the magical anger rushing through her she simply didn't have enough strength to hurt him. He on the other hand could simply pick her up and hurl her away. She was only small and he was filled with adrenaline.

By the time he'd found his feet she was just getting up but facing the wrong direction. So he shot her in the bum. That ended her fight fairly quickly as she fell to the floor with a shriek. But as the lightning danced across the ceiling once more he knew he still had work to do.

Just then the church doors crashed open and people started running in and he knew his back up had finally arrived. More importantly one of them had the gift of dispassion and from the instant he opened his mouth and let out his song, people started falling to the floor to lie there helplessly. Few could resist him. In fact only those like James who were covered in protective wards could do so. The same wards that had probably stopped him from getting fried by the lightning.

Seconds later the battle was over. People were lying all over the floor, completely overcome by the spell. Not unconscious, not even paralysed. Simply unable to find the will to move. And that was a good thing James knew as the others started grabbing the helpless parishioners and dragging them out of the church. It had been too close, something that was brought home to him by the blood he could feel trickling down his forehead. He went for his phone instead which he'd dropped in all the confusion, and then after tucking it away in his coat he started hunting through the masses for the Asian woman. Finding her was the key. Once they had her, everything ended.

But she was nowhere to be seen and he quickly started to worry that she'd got away. There were people everywhere, lying on the floor, collapsed over pews, but save for the Illuminati he couldn't see anyone else moving. And she wasn't one of those on the floor that he could see. The church probably had a rear exit.

A crack above made James look up. The fire had taken hold of the roof and one of the walls and he knew he didn't have any more time to hunt her down. Lives were in danger and they had to get the people out of there now. It hurt, in fact it felt like failure, but it was what had to be done. Besides, he told himself, there was no point in searching any more. She was probably long gone. The others had just been some sort of distraction she'd used to make her escape.

James grabbed the nearest warm body to him and started dragging the man out towards the front entrance while the roof burned above him. There was nothing else to do.

Ten minutes later everyone was out and the church was well ablaze. Fire trucks were already arriving on the scene, and James was checking the parishioners looking for the Asian woman and her cohort. Or were they victims? Four were easy enough to spot. Three had bullet holes in them, and the fourth the beginnings of a massive bruise to the side of his face.

The other two he had more difficulty with. The one who'd cast the lightning he hadn't seen at all, and the sixth he not only hadn't seen but also didn't know what his or her gift might be. All he had to go by were the pictures he'd snapped of the backs of their heads. As for the Asian woman, there was no sign of her. He also had no real hope that the others would be able to tell them anything about her. Not for a while anyway.

It wasn't an unqualified success as operations went James supposed, especially when blood kept running down his forehead. But they had some people in custody now and images of a suspect. Probably they'd broken up some sort of plot. That wasn't a complete failure.

But then things became a hundred times more difficult as the priest came rushing up to him to complain about the damage to his church. In his mind at least there was only one person to blame. It didn't matter that James hadn't started the fight. Or that he'd simply been sitting quietly when he'd been attacked. He was still responsible. And the priest was going to make a complaint.

James sighed quietly when he heard that. Another complaint? It was beginning to look as though he needed his own department just to deal with them. But what else was new? 

Chapter Ten

James was sitting on the tail of the ambulance being treated by the doctor when Yasmin showed up. By the look in her brown eyes it seemed that she had something to tell him. The trouble was that sitting there in his underwear he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. Or really anything at all from the statuesque woman standing in front of him in some sort of body hugging dress that looked like it belonged on a runway. She'd obviously dumped the ICE jacket somewhere. No doubt it didn't go with her outfit. He didn't feel so much under dressed as completely naked in front of her. 

“Yasmin?”

The techies have analysed the shout. They think the woman's a banshee.”

“Banshee's! Well that’s just great!” James was anything but impressed by the term. Of course he was already upset at having the doctor stitching him up on the side of the road. He would have preferred just a little privacy, especially when there were already press around snapping pictures. A hospital room would be nice. But now he had banshees? “That's what I love about this job. Every time I think I've got a handle on things, you guys throw something completely new at me!”

“Careful doc!” He snapped at the doctor sewing up his forehead when something stung him.

“Don't be a baby!”

The doctor carried on with his work, unconcerned with James' outburst. Or with what Yasmin had said. He wasn't even bothered by the fact that James' guns along with most of his clothes were piled up on the tail of the ambulance. Anyone else would be freaking out, but he just carried on with his work. Obviously he'd seen it all before. But then he was one of the magical. The Illuminati had managed to bring in their own support people along when things had gone badly. James suspected the doctor's gift was a magically poor bedside manner. On the other hand James thought, maybe it was lust. The good doctor was concentrating too much on Yasmin. His eyes seemed to keep wandering in her direction. Not a good thing when the man was supposed to be concentrating on his stitching him up.

“So what's a banshee? Some sort of ghost that wails for the dead? And isn't she the wrong race?”

“That's just the myth.” Yasmin was fairly obviously trying to keep from laughing at him as he sat there in his underwear. At least someone was enjoying his discomfort. “They're a type of fascinator, but not like your brother. It takes longer for them to bend and twist thoughts, but also they seem to work at a deeper level, bringing about profound changes in personality that endure. And they have an extra little kick. When they scream – or wail – those under their spell will do anything they can to protect them without a moment's thought. That's what happened in the church.”

“We didn't think there were any in the country. But then so far we've found thirty seven unregistered gifted and I have no doubt more will come out of the woodwork before this is over. It's obvious that something's going on here.”

And wasn't that the truth James thought. The church had had a hundred and eighteen people in its congregation and roughly half of them had been processed thus far. Of those processed thirty seven had so far been found to have been unregistered gifted.  He figured they would find a similar number or unregistered in the balance of those waiting to be processed. Seventy four unregistered. That was something of a haul.

Usually when they found someone who was unregistered the reason given was that either their magic was so minor that they didn't see the point, or they were simply too lazy to bother. And of course there were always a few who turned up as fresh faces, knowing nothing at all about the world of magic and the Illuminati. Often they were kids whose gifts were just beginning to show and whose families weren't gifted at all, save perhaps for a distant relative from somewhere in the past. So no one had ever told them about this part of their lives.

The real question though was why there were so many were unregistered. At least for James. This wasn't like customs and immigration. They weren't in danger of being deported. In fact there were no penalties at all. It was just a matter of them turning up at their local hall and registering their details. And for a few of them that would be a very good thing indeed. The Illuminati were always interested in certain gifts. For some they would offer training and education, inclusion in the clan, careers and the rest. It might be a bit of a lottery as to who got what but still, winning it was a prize well worth the ticket price.

On top of that the Illuminati did have an unofficial social support arm. For those of the gifted who found themselves in serious trouble the Illuminati could offer certain services. Legal and medical services mostly. It was part of the contract they had with the rest of the gifted. Yes they would impose some basic rules on them, but they also gave back. It made the unpalatable a little more palatable.

Of course he realised, there was another question to be asked. Was it organised? And if so by who?

“The priest,” James said, as the thought occurred. “We need to speak with him. He must have known that so many of his flock weren't registered. And we need to know why he has so many unregistered to begin with. There's something funny going on there.”

“I thought you said it wasn't the church! It was the damned Asian woman!” Yasmin let out an exasperated sigh and planted her hands on her hips. She shouldn't have done that. James watched as Yasmin’s breasts seem to rise up and suddenly try to burst free from her dress. The doctor also got an eyeful.  James tried not to smile as he saw where the doctor's eyes were travelling. The man was new to Yasmin. He hadn't yet had a chance to grow accustomed to the effect she had on men.

Then he yelped in pain.

“Ow! Careful doc!” James could do without the stabbing. “Eyes on the job – not the pretty woman!”

He turned back to Yasmin who was trying to cover up a grin. “Maybe it's both. I don't know. Getting turned into a punching bag tends to make me question things. Either way, set up an interview with the priest. Daniels should handle this one I think.”

“Daniels? But he's Intelligence.” She pouted a little at James unhappily. “I can do it.”

Damn she looked cute when she did that! Still, James knew he was going to have to treat this carefully. This was about pride, and Yasmin was filled with confidence after her interrogation of Natasha Orin. It might have taken far longer than anyone had expected but she had finally got the information they needed from the woman and Yasmin was understandably happy about that. He didn't want to take that achievement away from her. Especially now when things seemed to be running a little more smoothly between them. In fact some days she actually smiled at him – he wasn't sure what that was about.

“I know you can. But this is Daniels' one. He’s the right person for the interrogation. He's over-dressed, like a businessman. He's young and confident and officious. He'll be able to get under the priest’s skin and give the right impression. Bureaucratic officialdom. Paperwork and form filling. The priest will respond to him better.”

“Besides, you're a woman.”

“Well thank you for noticing!” She didn't seem that grateful though. In fact she looked upset as she drew herself up to her full height.

“But that's a mark against you with some in church circles,” James carried on doing his best to explain. “And you dress too provocatively for the church. Another mark off. The priest won't respect you. But he needs to respect whoever he's talking to. He needs to think his complaints are being listened to by the important people. That he’s being taken seriously.”

“I can take his complaints seriously! And this is not provocative! This is what is known in most circles as fashionable. Something you clearly wouldn't know anything about!”

She was probably right – she was certainly right that he knew nothing about fashion – the dress did cover her completely from her knees to her neck save for the cleavage. It was simply the way it hugged her figure that made it seem a little too on the nose.

“Priests aren't in to fashion. He would see you in that and instantly think you were a woman of poor moral standing. Daniels gives the right impression.”

“That's just sexist!” Yasmin objected. And she was right to.

“Yes. It is.” James sighed quietly. “But priests tend to be a bit that way. Conservative.  Well, maybe not even that but definitely on the prudish side. And I obviously can't do it.” James hurried on, taking the time to nod in the direction of the smoking ruin that had been a church to make his point as he carried on. Of course that just got him stabbed in the head again by the doctor who told him to keep still. Still, his point had been made. It would be a long time before the priest forgave him for that.

“I suspect he may harbour some distinctly unchristian thoughts towards me.”

“Doesn't everybody?!” Yasmin had obviously realised that his decision was made and she wasn't going to change it. But she wasn't happy about it. Or about his calling her fashion sense provocative.

James gave up on trying to placate her. He wasn't going to win that argument. Instead he carried on. “The others are going to have their hands full with this mess. There's a lot of paperwork to do and a cover up to arrange as well. Peters and West are going to be busy.”

The processing of the people was the one thing that actually seemed to be in hand. But dealing with the cover up was going to be a major problem. Still, West had told them that an electrical fault in the lights followed by a fire would explain most of what had happened to people's satisfaction, and he should know. Cover ups were his thing. So Will had already given that statement unofficially to some of the other responders who'd shown up, and he was preparing a press release.

“Besides the big interviews are going to be with the six people the Asian woman spoke to. I doubt she gave them any real details about herself. Possibly not even a name. But when we find out what she did tell them and what she asked them to do, we'll have a lot more knowledge of her game plan.”

Suddenly he'd found his way past Yasmin's irritation as she thought he was telling her she was going to be involved in that. And in the end he understood that. She wanted to be appreciated. It was a natural human emotion.

As was lust, something he discovered a lot more about when her pout vanished to be replaced by a dazzling smile. Which was the doctor's cue to stab him with the needle again. He growled at him once more.

“I'll set up –.”

“Not yet.” James interrupted her before she could start making any more plans for him to knock down and upset her further. “Please.”

“Now that we know what we're dealing with we have to treat them as cultists. They've been essentially brainwashed and they need to be deprogrammed. You saw how tough that was with Natasha Orin. And that was after she'd suffered a profound loss that destroyed her world and broke the fascinator's hold over her. These will be tougher.”

“You said the changes are deeper rooted. We're going to need specialists. Psychologists with experience in deprogramming. We need to get inside their heads, find out the lies she's told them and then show them the truth. We need to shatter their made up world so they can find the real one. And that's specialist work.”

“Also, now that I think about it, we need to find out more about the banshee. You said you didn't think there were any in the country but suddenly we have one here causing trouble. Why? And is it just one? Or is this something more organised? Does the gift run through families? Let’s have someone reach out to our … Irish? … offices and see if they've had any concerns with them. Family connections. Organised actions.”

“And I suppose you want me to do that?” She sounded disappointed.

“I'm sorry Yasmin, but for the moment I want you on the background work. Can you check out their, financials, histories, family connections and alibis. Get me everything you can find on the priest, the church, the congregation and especially the half dozen we have in custody. Also, could you ask William to check the international side of things please.”

“You're done.” The doctor interrupted James before he could give Yasmin any more instructions.

It was probably for the best as James was sure he was making a poor fist of things. Meanwhile Yasmin's smile had once again vanished, and James suspected she might be about to start arguing. It was clear she thought she was being given the grunt work. And maybe she believed it was because she was a woman, which had to hurt even more.