Demon Accords 8: College Arcane (36 page)

“Ahem.” Gina cleared her throat, interrupting
Stan’s explanation of algorithmic diagnostics. He looked her way
and then from her finger to the mildly disturbing display on the
big screen.

“Oh God,” he muttered, flushing bright red
and struggling with his tablet. The drone resisted his cease and
desist command for a few seconds before flying back and taking up
station next to him.

Erika had gotten over her
initial shock at the drone’s approach and was now obviously happy
with all the male attention she was getting. She
was
the only girl in the
room in a miniskirt.

“Did you do that?” Jetta whispered to me,
eyeing my hand holding Caeco’s.

“I might have made a suggestion,” I allowed.
Three of the wolves, including Delwood, turned and looked at
me.

The intel geeks missed the glances and nods,
but Gina didn’t. She stared at me for a moment, then winked.

Stan moved on to other drones and other
sensors including high sensitivity microphones and laser-based
measurement systems. He talked about linked units of drones, all
under the control of a single operator, able to swarm a single
target or separate and attack multiples. He did, however, keep the
drones away from the audience for the rest of his presentation.

The day turned out to be pretty interesting
as we heard from some very qualified people and were presented with
highly detailed analyses what was happening across our country and
the rest of world.

On the one hand, it was pretty much along the
lines of what we had discussed and discovered in Gina’s seminar,
but with much, much greater detail. The FBI had uncovered
seventy-two different radical groups since the demon problem was
first surfaced. They covered the gamut from anti-were and vampire
hate groups to groupies who wanted to worship the supernatural.

We learned of sixteen different proposed
bills that were trying to legislate supernaturals, either to
acknowledge their rights or remove them.

Presenters covered industries that had been
destroyed by the emergence, and economic sectors that were soaring
from it.

Oracle agents discussed improvements in the
gate-closing technology as well as the development of gate-opening
devices.

The CIA representatives showed a global
analysis of the damage done on Halloween night, the current state
of outbreaks, and a rough guess as to the dispersal of vampires and
weres across the planet. They also showed a video from the Middle
East of fundamental religious fanatics preparing to behead an
accused family of werewolves. Numerous other people had been
decapitated under the same accusation, but this time, they actually
got a real family of werewolves. The result was a graphic lesson in
why steel handcuffs and steel knives are of little use against
pissed-off werewolf parents protecting their young. It was a bloody
massacre.

Overall, everything was done very
professionally and the speakers were polished. Understandable for
people who made presentations for a major part of their living. The
other part of their jobs was uncovering information, and that skill
set showed up at lunch, dinner, and every break we had between
workshops. The first morning, we’d been separate and distinct
camps; by break one, the spies and cops were chatting up students
left and right. Friendly, making jokes, paying compliments, asking
questions… lots of questions.

Caeco and I held back and watched. Our
brother-sister roommates didn’t partake either, but much of the
class was quickly charmed, almost as fast as I could have charmed
them with magic. Except the weres. They kept to themselves, which
is why most of them ended up next to our table at lunch on Tuesday.
Matthew, who had moved past the nodding acquaintance stage with
most of my friends, was quietly talking with Mack, although his
eyes strayed to Jetta more than anywhere else. Delwood and company
were mostly quiet, their slightly tilted heads telling me they were
listening in to multiple conversations around the dining room.

“Ah Miss Sutton. What a fascinating
coincidence to find you and your brother here,”
a female voice said.

The speaker was a solid-looking Asian woman
in a dark suit, a second woman following behind her.

“Agent Krupp. Following us around the
country?” Jetta asked, her tone cold as ice. “And your shadow,
Agent Mazar.”

Mack straightened up and narrowed his eyes at
the newcomers.

“I find it incredibly interesting that you
and your brother are part of this… program,” Agent Krupp said, eyes
on the Sutton kids but visibly aware of the rest of us. The woman
behind her was slightly taller, with black hair and dark eyes, her
skin a Mediterranean olive tone.

“As equally fascinating as finding you and
Mazar here, at a Vermont college,” Mack said, his voice the most
unfriendly I’d ever heard it. “Shouldn’t you be investigating
unsolved murder cases, like, say, our parents’?”

“Your parents’ case was labeled as a wild
animal attack,” Krupp said evenly.

“Right. Giant dogs that tie up their victims
first,” Jetta said.

“Well, in light of recent revelations, you
might be right, but all my suspects either died of homicide or
disappeared outright, like Simon Masten. Interestingly enough, it
was your parents’ case that brought me to my new unit and
ultimately here. With the existence of Lycanthropes and true
vampires proven, we’re going back over unsolved cases with an eye
toward the supernatural. Director Stewart billed this event as a
chance to learn more about those species, but so far I haven’t met
a single one,” Krupp said, taking a moment to meet all our eyes,
one by one.

“Well, darling, you’re standing in the middle
of a bunch of them,” Delwood said, grinning insolently.

Krupp ignored his tone and studied him
carefully. Agent Mazar chose that moment to tap her shoulder. When
Krupp looked her way, she nodded at the rest of the room. Every kid
in our class was watching the exchange at our table, their own
conversations with federal types forgotten. That caused the other
agents and analysts to watch as well.

“That’s a little creepy in
a
children of the corn
way,” Krupp muttered.

“Ouch,” my mouth said without checking with
my brain. She looked at me like she was seeing me for the first
time. I charged blindly ahead. “No more creepy than the divide and
interrogate session your fellow investigators are currently
conducting on law-abiding college students,” I said.

“And just who might you be?” she asked.

“His roommate,” I said, nodding at Mack.

“Aww, don’t you know that’s the famous
Duckling gone Caroling,” Delwood said.

“And over there, you have the mighty Dillweed
Swinger,” I shot back. He waggled one hand to show his ambivalence
at my insult. What can I say—not my best work.

Our little exchange confused Agent Krupp and
she opened her mouth to ask a question but our two resident
potheads, Jack and Larry, chose that moment to step into the room,
high as kites. Jack took one look at the agent and exclaimed,
“Whoa, she’s gonna tase Declan!”

Agent Krupp was standing with her hands on
her hips, her jacket pushed back, which displayed her service
pistol on one hip and a Taser on the other. She instantly dropped
her hands, letting her jacket cover her arsenal, but it was too
late.

“Either tase him or shoot him, bro. Cool!”
Larry said.

“I say you skip the taser and just shoot
him,” Delwood said.

“She doesn’t have to
shoot
you
,
Smellwolf, but she can tase me any day,” I said.

“No!” Caeco interjected. “No Tasers. He’s
been doing so well lately. Just shoot him.”

“Et tu, Caeco?” I asked.

“The first step to managing your addiction is
admitting you have a problem,” she replied.

“Hi, my name is Dikeling O’Carousel and I’m
addicted to tasing. I keep going round and round with it,” Delwood
said, standing and addressing the group like an addict at
rehab.

By this point in the year, the whole class
knew about my affection for Tasers, and what I usually did with the
excess electricity, thanks to Jenks’s module on non-lethal
weapons.

Our classmates laughed. Agent Krupp looked
thoroughly confused, and Gina Velasquez arrived at our table with
her eyes fastened on the two agents.

“Everything alright here?” she asked. A small
hand slipped into mine and I turned to find Toni standing next to
my chair, watching her mother.

I tapped Toni’s Disney
watch. “Chuck Norris doesn’t wear a watch.
He
decides what time it is,” I said
quietly.

She looked at me for a moment. “Chuck Norris
can make pigs fly,” she said, giggling.

“What kind of madhouse are you running here?”
Krupp asked Gina, her eyes on Toni and me.

“Why are you here?” Gina asked her back. “Why
did you attend this event?”

Krupp turned her gaze back to Gina, eyes
narrowed. “It was billed as a source of information on the new
paranormal world.”

“Well, these students just gave you a huge
amount of information in a brief conversation. Are you smart enough
to figure it out?” Gina asked. Krupp just looked at her.

“Anyone? Did any of you skilled analysts pick
up what they just fed you?” Gina asked the room at large. Every eye
was on her.

“Krupp displayed arrogance and aggression in
approaching two of our students, who she sees as suspects in a
series of unsolved murders. Jetta and Mack are two outstanding
young participants in the Arcane program. But they’re not
inherently supernatural,” Gina explained. “But they’re here because
they were exposed to the supernatural worlds when werewolves killed
their parents and they tracked down the killers and saw to it that
they were dealt with by the rest of the supernatural world. Now,
for those who don’t yet know this, weres don’t hunt humans as a
rule. A real rule, a life-or-death rule. Killing humans is a death
sentence offense in the world of the two-natured. Krupp, did you
check the DNA analysis of the dead suspects?”

“It was either not done or disappeared,”
Krupp said, arms crossed.

“I would suggest that every unsolved death
should start with a DNA test from now on. The first thing you
should find out is what species you’re actually dealing with. All
of your dead victims were werewolves, Krupp. The same werewolves
that killed Jetta and Mack’s parents. Your prime suspect, Simon
Masten, disappeared? I would suggest that the supernatural
community found him guilty and passed sentence.”

“That’s murder and vigilantism,” Krupp
said.

“Maybe, by strict definition. But what would
you have done if you had realized Masten was a werewolf, and a
rogue one that killed humans? Taken him into custody? Put him in a
jail?”

“Of course,” Krupp answered.

“Really? Give me your handcuffs,” Gina said,
holding out one hand.

Krupp studied her for a second, then looked
around the room. Finally she sighed and pulled out her cuffs.

“Matthew, stand up and put your hands behind
your back, please,” Gina said.

He grinned and did as she asked. Gina
expertly cuffed him and stood back.

“There, I just subdued a werewolf suspect.
Matthew, break the cuffs.”

Matthew, who was certainly fit looking but
not overly powerfully built, tensed his arms and shoulders. The
cuffs snapped with a sharp ping of steel.

“Lucky for me he cooperated with the cuffing.
Imagine if he didn’t. What if he Changed?” Gina said.

“Isn’t that dependent on the moon?” a big guy
in a black suit asked.

“Nope. That’s legend. Matthew can change
whenever he wants, right, Matt?”

Matt held up one hand and it snapped,
crunched, and grew two sizes larger with claws and hair. Chairs
scraped as trained agents suddenly realized just what he was.

“Stand down!” Gina ordered, loud enough to
command their attention. “Thank you, Matthew,” she said and he sat
down, his hand returning to normal. He still had the bracelets
around each wrist so I leaned over and touched his left one, the
lock snapping open at my command. He nodded and held out his right
wrist and I tapped that one, too.

I looked back and realized most of the room
had just witnessed that.

“So Krupp, how are you going to arrest a
werewolf? How could you hold him or her?” Gina asked.

Krupp grimaced. “But you can’t just let
people kill each other.”

“First, thank you for
saying
people
because that’s what everyone in this room is. Second, we live
in a new world. One that started when a demon prince of Hell fought
a fallen Angel on the streets of Washington, blocks from the White
House, and lost. You either adapt to the new world or you won’t
survive it,” Gina said.

“So what do we do?” the same suit asked.