Sunset: Pact Arcanum: Book One (3 page)

Nick smiled in approval. “That’s a good question, and probably the smartest thing you’ve said all day.” His eyes flickered to something unseen behind Jeremy. “Time to face the music.”

C
HAPTER 2

The air behind Jeremy shimmered, and a third man appeared on the stage. He was dressed in a gray outfit, similar to Nick’s in design, and over the top wore a canvas vest embroidered with a logo—a blue sword surrounded by a circle half filled with white. Black leather bracers on his forearms each held a sheathed dagger. His wide, dark eyes silently expressed his amusement as his gaze raked over the fallen terrorists and the scorched bomb casing.

“Hello, Nicholas,” he said, and his chiseled features relaxed into a wide grin.

“Scott.” Nick gave him a crooked smile. “What brings you up here?”

Scott scratched idly at his chin. “Well, every gun-toting human for miles around just passed out. Your work, I believe?”

“Just something I’ve been working on.” Nick shrugged. “A souped-up version of standard Neural Shock, targeted at any human carrying gunpowder.”

“I figured that out as it passed me. Nice design. Well, after that, there didn’t seem to be any further need to keep out the Special Forces soldiers who were trying to storm the building, so I decided to see how you were getting along.” He nodded in Jeremy’s direction. “Looks like you missed one.”

“I thought I might need a witness.”

Scott’s voice hardened. “Is a witness really going to help your case, do you think?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Why did you set the range so high? You knocked out police and soldiers all around the building, as well as the terrorists inside.”

“I didn’t have time to recalculate the parameters of the spell, so I had to stick with the original one-mile radius.” Nick’s voice was matter-of-fact.

Jeremy started at that, his gaze snapping from Scott’s face to Nick’s. “Spell?”

Scott ignored him. “You set it for a one-mile radius, with yourself at the center, and targeted it to incapacitate humans carrying firearms. What was it designed to do, take out an army?”

Nick was eloquently silent.

“I see.” Scott sighed. “Nick, I love you like a brother, but if I let you just walk out of here after this debacle, then they’ll hunt you down and kill you without mercy.”

“I know. Do what you have to do, Scotty.”

Scott was silent for a moment, lost in thought. “Quarrel,” he said finally, “bear witness.”

“Forensic recording enabled,” said another disembodied voice.

Scott stood straighter. “Armistice Security judicial proceeding initiated this time and date, Special Agent Scott Maxwell Phillips Consul Luscian presiding.” He looked at Nick. “Citizen, please state your full name for the record.”

“Nicholas Magister Luscian.”

“Nicholas Magister Luscian, the available evidence indicates you have engaged in multiple counts of the willful exercise of magic with hostile intent upon human beings without their consent. Do you challenge this interpretation of events?”

“No.”

“At the time of your actions, were you aware that they would constitute a class-one offense, punishable by immediate and final death?”

“Yes.”

“You are hereby charged with multiple counts of class-one breach of Armistice. Your unconditional surrender is required under article one of the Rules of Engagement.”

“I surrender.”

“The court finds sufficient evidence present to sustain a directed trial order of summary execution. Do you have anything to say in your defense before sentence is passed?”

Nick folded his arms and stood his ground. “I claim justification under article three of the Rules of Engagement.”

Scott scowled at him. “Acting in protection of life only applies to self-defense when your life is actually in danger. There is no weapon in this room sufficiently powerful to kill you, with the exception of the nuclear device itself, and you had ample opportunity to escape before detonation.”

“Not my life,” said Nick. He pointed at Jeremy, who watched with fascination. “I was protecting his.”

Scott glanced at Jeremy. “Article three doesn’t apply to defending humans.”

“He’s not human.”

Jeremy’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“I think he’s one of us. More specifically, I think he’s one of you,” Nick said.

Scott turned to Jeremy and scrutinized him. “I see no evidence of the Gift.”

“You’re looking in the wrong place.” Nick shook his head. “I believe his Gift has been silenced in favor of an alternate configuration.”

Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “The Celtic mutation?”

“So I believe.”

“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since the last confirmed case of the Celtic mutation coexisting with the full Gift?”

“Fourteen years.”

“And you think you found one of our Lost Brothers just in time to give you a pretext to prevent the massacre of the city of your birth? Isn’t that awfully convenient, Nick?”

Nick shrugged. “Coincidence.”

Scott gave him a calculating look. “Present your evidence.”

“While I was speaking to the terrorist leader, I conducted an active scan of all minds in the building in case an opportunity to intervene arose.” He looked at Jeremy. “A few seconds after I touched his mind, Jeremy demonstrated high-order telepathy. He performed a deep read on his leader, which revealed her true motivations—revenge for the murder of her family in a gang-related crossfire with police almost ten years ago. I had already independently verified that motive by my own deep read.”

Jeremy stared at him, eyes wide.

“His latent ability most likely responded to the direct touch of another mind,” said Scott, continuing to ignore Jeremy. “But telepathy is predominantly a function of human genetics and is not exclusive to those with access to the Gift, silenced or otherwise. The court dismisses your argument.”

Nick took a deep breath. “The Neural Shock spell I released was targeted at any human carrying a firearm. Jeremy is wearing a pistol on his hip.” All three men looked at the holstered weapon on Jeremy’s belt. “I did nothing to shield him from the spell, and he escaped its effects entirely.”

Scott considered that. “The court reserves judgment until such time as the parameters of the spell are reviewed in detail and an alternate explanation is excluded. Present your next argument.”

Nick met Scott’s eyes defiantly, straightening to his full six feet. “The last thing he did before the bullets started flying was quote the last line of the Words of Binding.”

Jeremy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Scott pointed at him. “Please state your full name for the record.”

“What are the Words of Binding?”

“State your name, please,” Scott repeated.

“Jeremy Kenneth Harkness. What is he talking about?”

Scott spoke a few words in an unknown language, and then translated. “My eyes are open, and I am not afraid.”

Jeremy’s face paled and he clenched his fists at his sides. “That’s nothing.”

Scott stepped closer, maintaining eye contact. “They were the last words you were going to speak in your mortal life. Obviously, they have some meaning to you.”

Jeremy set his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”
The words are mine. No one can have them.

“My best friend is on trial for a capital crime, all because he saved your life. Don’t you think you owe it to him to be honest with me?”

Jeremy looked at Nick, who was watching him intently. It finally penetrated that he had come close to dying only a few minutes before. He sagged at the revelation, too shocked to censor his words. “It’s just a kid’s oath I made up, part of a game of make-believe I created in my head after my parents died. I never told anyone about it.”

“Will you tell me the rest of the oath?” asked Scott.

“No,” Jeremy spat.

“Because it means too much to you to share.” Scott’s voice was gentle. “Even if it was a kid’s oath. Even if it was just make-believe. It’s still vitally important to you, isn’t it?”

Jeremy said nothing, just scowled at him.

“Jeremy, I was born human, but I carried a powerful inherited magic called the Gift. It’s a hereditary spell woven into various bloodlines worldwide for tens of thousands of years. It only comes into its full power when inherited from both parents and then remains dormant until a very special set of circumstances awakens it. Nick believes you have the Gift but that it has been interrupted by a genetic mutation that arose in the human population of Ireland about three thousand years ago. It short circuits the Gift and diverts its power into human psychic abilities, such as telepathy, precognition, and telekinesis. The Celtic people referred to this phenomenon as Second Sight.”

“The Sight?” Jeremy’s eyes widened. “But that’s just a myth.”

“Do you have any Irish ancestry?”

Jeremy swallowed. “My mother’s family was from Dublin.” He shook his head. “No, this is crazy. I don’t believe you. You guys are trying to run some kind of scam on me.”

“Jeremy, when the Gift is kindled, it triggers a cascade of physical enhancements that magnify combat abilities, such as strength, agility, and endurance. Then it activates a preprogrammed sequence of memories and abilities attuned to the personality of the Gifted, turning the human into an instant soldier with all of the skills necessary to fight a war that has been raging in the shadows of this world for more than thirty thousand years.” Scott placed his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “The Gifted person stops being human and becomes a Sentinel.”

Jeremy stepped back, out of reach. “No. No, that isn’t possible. Sentinels are just in my imagination. I made them up. They were like knights in armor, but with magic.”

“That’s a fair description.”

“It was just a game,” Jeremy shouted. “It wasn’t real!”

“It was never a game, Jeremy,” Scott said with infinite patience. “It was a race memory from the remains of the Gift. A memory of who you were meant to be.”

“I don’t believe you!” Jeremy raised his fists and stepped forward to attack.

“I am a Child of the Twilight,” Scott said quietly.

Jeremy froze in place.

“I hold the line against the darkness, from the setting of the sun until the dawning of a new day.”

“I live for the Light; I die for the Light.” Jeremy’s voice softened with wonder as he let his hands fall back to his sides. “My eyes are open, and I am not afraid.”

“Are you satisfied?” Nick asked.

“The article three defense is sustained,” Scott told Nick, not taking his eyes off Jeremy. “The charges against you are withdrawn without prejudice. The court finds no fault in your actions and extends to you the thanks of the Sentinel people for your defense of our Lost Brother. This judicial proceeding is now closed. Set and done on this date over my seal and signature, Scott Maxwell Phillips Consul Luscian, called the Wind of Water, Armistice Security.”

“Forensic recording terminated,” said the voice of his AI.

Nick exhaled slowly. “Would you have done it, Scotty? If the verdict had gone the other way, would you have tried to kill me?”

“For a public breach this bad, I would have had to. No one would have stood for it. If I had let you go, the truce would have crumbled.” Scott grinned as he turned to face Nick. “Emphasis on the word ‘tried’. You’re stronger than I am, a lot stronger, but I would have slowed you down long enough for the others to get here.”

Nick raised his eyebrows. “Others?”

“You’re a high profile target.” Scott shrugged. “Every Sentinel in the country would have come running for the chance to help take down Soulkiller’s Bane.”

“Charming.” Nick grimaced. “A mystic free-for-all in the heart of Los Angeles.”

“It would have been a shame to have saved the city from nuclear destruction but then reduced all of Southern California to molten glass in the aftermath.” Scott looked around at the cameras. “So, I have to say, you certainly let the cat out of the bag this time. This kind of public disclosure would constitute a class three breach if the Triumvirate hadn’t agreed to let you handle it your way. I thought you were just supposed to provoke her into attacking you. Why didn’t you have Rapier knock out the cameras?”

“From reading Medusa’s mind, I knew she was going to press the button regardless. I had to keep her off balance until I could goad her into something rash. She was curious, though, and she had an authoritarian streak a mile wide. As long as I challenged her in public, with the cameras rolling, she would have held off on the detonation until she could put me in my place. Jeremy screwed everything up by taking my side. Anyway, it’s too late to do anything about it now.” Nick turned to Jeremy. “Speaking of which, it’s time for you to make a choice.”

“What choice?” Jeremy looked back and forth between them.

“One of our associates is maintaining force shields around the building. She’s keeping out the reinforcements that have arrived to replace the soldiers knocked out by Nick’s spell.”

“The shields will dissipate when we leave.” Nick indicated the bomb. “You came here to nuke the city, Jeremy. The fact that you changed your mind probably won’t cut much ice with the human authorities. If you want to stay here, you’re going to spend the rest of your life behind bars, along with Medusa and the rest of them.”

“But you have another option, if you choose to take it,” Scott said.

“What option?”

“You have obviously been able to subconsciously access some of the memories from your Gift, so they’re still there, just suppressed. I can bring those memories fully into your awareness and let you remember who you are, even if you won’t have the physical enhancements or the magic that should have been yours. If you choose that path, you can come with us and find sanctuary among the Free People, at least for a while.”

“What do I have to do?” Jeremy licked his lips nervously.

“You just have to give me your consent.”

“Can I ask a question first?”

“If you like.”

Jeremy looked at Nick. “If he’s a Sentinel, and I’m a Sentinel, then what are you?”

Nick smiled at Scott. “He’s a sharp one.”