Nine

 

“They approached you?” I asked eagerly. “How?”

“It was like with you—they came up to me when I was at lunch and handed me a card. Only they didn’t ask me to apply for a job. The guy made it sound like he was with a recruitment agency and wanted me to give particular consideration to the job candidates he proposed. I told him to send me the résumés and I’d see what I could do, but I couldn’t make any promises. He said it would be extremely beneficial for me to do what I could. I talked to the boss about it, and he agreed with you, that I should do it. I hate it, though.” He shuddered and pounded his fist on his thigh. “I hate the idea of giving people preference because they belong to some group.”

“Isn’t that what happens with university alumni, and fraternities, and secret societies at Ivy League universities?” Marcia asked.

“They generally aren’t giving kickbacks or threats. And I’ve tried to avoid that kind of bias when I hire. That’s why we’re a stronger company now. I’ve tried recruiting outside the usual areas, and that’s given us some fresh perspectives and new customer bases. This is sending us back to the Dark Ages.”

“Which is ironic, since they pride themselves on keeping up with the times,” I said. I handed him the list of things I remembered. “Here’s today’s work. Was there anything in what I gave you yesterday?”

“Yeah, actually there was. Several of them were our customers who’ve recently canceled orders for spell development. Family members for two of the individuals recently went missing. The rest didn’t seem to relate to anything we know of.”

“It’s possible that I didn’t remember correctly,” I said. “This list should be better, since I had a chance to concentrate more on remembering. Do you know what you’re going to do about these things?”

“Right now, we’re just watching and waiting.”

“Don’t wait too long. I have a feeling this is all part of some bigger plan, and we don’t want to let them get too much done.”

“But you don’t know what that plan might be?”

“I’ve been there two days,” I reminded him. “But while I have you, can you take a look at the company phone and make sure it’s not enchanted? I need to know how safe it is for me to talk around it.”

“I’m not as good at this sort of thing as Owen is, but I’ll give it a shot.”

I took the phone out of my purse and set it on the coffee table in front of him. He waved his hands over it, his eyes half closed, then shook his head. “I’m not picking up anything. It would be normal for them to be able to tell who you talked to and when, but it’s not enchanted to spy on you when you’re not using it.”

“Whew,” I said, sighing audibly. “That does make me feel a little better. They’re still crazy paranoid, but at least I don’t have Big Brother with me at all times.”

It would have been nice, though, if I’d had a way to bug Roger’s office. Then again, I couldn’t tell that anything was actually happening there. I never saw him meeting with anyone, never noticed anyone coming to or going from his office when I approached it, never saw outsiders in our hallway. We may as well have been in our own isolated little pod rather than a part of a larger organization.

A week or so later, Trish brought that up when we were both getting coffee in the break room. “Have you ever worked in a place that didn’t have meetings?” she asked.

“Only in my wildest dreams. Maybe we’re just lucky, or else they don’t yet trust us with meetings because we’re still on probation.”

“Yeah, but have you even seen Roger go to a meeting?”

“No, but his office is in another time zone.” Possibly literally, since I felt like there was something funny about this building.

“True,” she said, nodding. “I guess maybe I’m still not used to the whole magic thing.”

My paranoia levels skyrocketed when I got an e-mail soon after returning to my office announcing a meeting in half an hour in the conference room. A moment later, Trish came into my office, glancing over her shoulder like she was making sure she hadn’t been followed. “Were they spying on us?” she asked in a whisper. “Because this is just freaky. One minute we’re all ‘why don’t they have meetings?’ and the next minute they’re announcing a meeting.”

“Maybe it’s a coincidence?” I ventured.

She wagged her finger at me. “Oh no, don’t you try that. I can see on your face that you’re just as freaked as I am. I wonder what this meeting is about. The first elimination?”

“Surely they wouldn’t do that at a meeting.”

“Or they’re going to tell us how many companies they’ve been able to take over with these shady contracts we’ve been checking.”

“If we’re lucky, there will be cake.”

And there was cake, just not in the way I feared. The “meeting” turned out to be a surprise Valentine’s Day party for the staff. I’d entirely forgotten about the holiday—or perhaps had deliberately tried to forget, since I wouldn’t be able to be with Owen. We’d never actually been together for Valentine’s Day, since I’d been back home last year. It had been easy to forget the holiday because the security measures meant we didn’t get the stream of florist deliveries or singing telegrams you’d see at any other company.

Roger made a brief appearance to hand each staff member a pink rose, then left the staff to celebrate. People who wanted to party weren’t nagged about needing to get back to work, but those who got some cake and headed back to their offices didn’t get a guilt trip about being antisocial. For an evil organization, they could have taught seminars in how to treat employees. I supposed it was easier to get loyalty by using honey rather than dire threats.

But I wasn’t here to have the most pleasant working experience of my professional life. I was here to bring down an ancient secret organization, even if it offered prime benefits and cake. I just wasn’t sure what else I could be doing right now other than passing on the names that came up in documents I was verifying.

I got my chance to learn more later that day when Roger called me to his office. I was surprised to run into Trish and Bex in the hallway, also on their way. So far, he’d kept the three of us separate when it came to work, like he was judging each of us independently rather than in direct competition. When we reached his office, he was on his feet and heading out the door. “Come on, there’s a meeting,” he said. He was missing his usual genial smile. I wouldn’t say that he looked concerned, but he did look more intent and serious than he usually did. We had to hustle to keep up with him as we moved through the building.

I’d long since given up on figuring out the building’s geography, but this trip was even more disorienting than usual. At one point, I felt like I’d gone from the top of a high rise to the bottom in a high-speed elevator, even as we just walked down a hallway. I glanced at the others and saw Trish put out a hand to steady herself against the wall.

Soon after that, we encountered a lot of other people heading in the same direction, converging on the same hallway from multiple angles. Whatever meeting this was, it was a big one.

I realized when we reached the conference room that “big” was something of an understatement. The room was more like an arena. On the floor stood a circular table with five chairs around it. The fifth chair was larger and more luxurious, almost a throne, and it sat facing the fan-shaped theater. There were four tiers of curved tables with executive-style chairs arranged along them and smaller chairs situated behind each of the executive chairs. I estimated there were about twenty executive seats on each tier, and it looked like the chairs were slightly smaller on each level. Behind the tiers with tables was auditorium-style seating for maybe a few hundred spectators.

Much to my surprise, Roger led us to the fourth tier of tables and took his seat, gesturing for the three immunes to sit in the chairs behind him. Assuming that the highest ranks sat at the bottom, I’d have figured him for being much higher. Then again, they’d told me in the interview that he was a rising executive. I supposed he was taking the advice about acting like he was already in the job he wanted seriously.

The room gradually filled, mostly from the top down. The higher-ranking people seemed to be waiting until everyone else was there before they made their appearance, which was another unexpected thing about Roger. I’d have thought he’d have at least wanted to be the last one on his tier to be seated, but he was among the first.

I soon saw why, though. “Keep your eyes open,” he instructed us. “Let me know the moment you spot something fishy, whether or not it looks magical.” He sat at high alert as the attendees filed in, apparently taking mental notes about everyone. He didn’t seem to be particularly anxious, just very observant.

At one point, when the tiers were entirely full and two of the seats on the floor had been taken, many of the people moved to rise, as though the judge was entering the courtroom. I glanced at Trish and Bex, who both shrugged. Roger was just starting to stand, and I leaned forward and said, “If you think someone important has just come in, they haven’t.”

He gave me a nod and leaned back in his seat, looking very much at ease. There was a lot of nervous shuffling throughout the room as people gradually realized they’d been hoaxed and made to look foolish. Across the room, a man one level down from us snickered. I could see Roger making note of him, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to swap places with that guy.

The final two seats at the table on the floor filled—the ones flanking the big chair. The room then went very quiet. It was at least two minutes by my watch before a figure appeared in the doorway behind the big chair. Some of the people in the room stood. Others glanced awkwardly at each other. I whispered to Roger, “There really is someone there this time.” He stood, and I figured the rest of us should, too, so I got to my feet. We didn’t sit until that man took his seat, and he took his sweet time about it.

It was hard to get a good look at him from my position, and the lighting on him seemed to do more to blur him than illuminate him. There weren’t any projection screens to make it easier to see him. I got the impression of a man old enough to have silver hair, of nondescript height and build. If this was the godfather of the magical mafia, I was a bit disappointed. Then again, when it came to magic, physical size and presence had very little to do with power.

When the godfather spoke, his voice rang throughout the room as though it had been amplified, though I didn’t see any microphones. His voice was rough and harsh, with an accent that might have been British, by way of something else I couldn’t quite place. He talked about the end of the previous year and financial results, the kind of stuff that could have been in any company’s annual meeting. There was no sign that this was any kind of ancient magical secret society.

That was, until he got to the part about the previous year’s key initiatives. That was an interesting way to phrase the big plan to bring Merlin back so he could be defeated once and for all. In fact, this godfather spoke like he’d learned English from reading business books. It was worse than Merlin had been when I’d first joined MSI and he was still getting adjusted to the modern world. Was this another ancient sorcerer brought back to life? I tried to form a mental image of him strong enough to be able to describe him later, but it was difficult when he was so nondescript.

When he finished summing up the failure, I realized I was on the edge of my seat. Would he actually say what their next plan was? I hardly dared hope it would be that easy.

And it wasn’t. Instead of talking about next steps, he turned to the man on his right. “Would you care to explain the failure of this plan?” he asked.

That man gulped so audibly that I heard it. “There were factors outside our control,” he said.

Like me, I couldn’t help but think. I wondered if anyone in this room knew who I was or the role I’d played. If they did, was my presence here considered a victory for Roger or a mistake? I supposed that would depend on the outcome, and I hoped it would be seen as a mistake when I brought this organization down. The way they talked about Merlin and Owen made me gnash my teeth.

The right-hand man didn’t get much of a chance to explain beyond that before there was a puff of smoke and a flash of light, and then he disappeared. “I expect results,” the godfather said. “The one who gets me results will get his seat.” He rose from his throne and abruptly left the room.

Everyone scrambled to their feet, but he was gone before he could see who had stood for his departure. I had a feeling everyone else was mostly watching the others to see who might have a weakness. The people on the top tier focused on the tier below, probably trying to figure out who might move up a level when someone on the lowest tier moved into the vacated seat. Roger, however, eyed that empty seat. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to bother with the intermediate steps. Either he’d jump straight up, or he’d eliminate the biggest threat on each level ahead of him.

The amount of magic in the air grew strong enough that it made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Trish squirmed uncomfortably, and I leaned over to whisper, “It’s magic. That’s what it feels like.”

“Really? I’ve been feeling this my whole life. I just thought it was someone walking over my grave.”

“Yeah, that’s the way it feels when strong magic is being used near you.” I wasn’t sure what they were doing. I didn’t see any obvious pranks, like the one before the meeting, and no magical duels were breaking out among the attendees. They just seemed to all be testing each other.

Surprisingly, Roger didn’t linger to indulge in the jockeying for position. He pushed his way past the others on his row and headed for the exit. We all had to scramble to keep up with him, he’d left so abruptly. I didn’t want to risk him getting too far ahead because I wasn’t sure I could find our office again without him.

We went through the maze of corridors, with another one of those elevator moments, before we got back to familiar ground. Roger asked us to come into his office with him. “Katie, you were there when their plan failed,” he said when we were seated. “Why do you think it went wrong?”

Here was that loyalty test I’d worried about. I didn’t want to give away any MSI secrets or tell him anything that would help. Then again, if anyone was going to get that chair, it would be best for me if it was Roger because that would take me closer to the heart of the organization. Better to give him a big boost than to have to spend years as he gradually moved up.

“Mostly, I think they chose the wrong people. I don’t know how much of the plan came from here and how much was Ivor Ramsay, but Phelan Idris was kind of an idiot, and I think Ramsay had an overinflated sense of himself. He miscalculated severely in dealing with Merlin.”

Roger gave a slight smile as he rubbed his fingertips together. “So, wrong people. What else?”

“The plan was maybe a bit too complicated? He went through all that song and dance to try to make Idris into a credible threat before he made his move, and that probably hurt his cause.”

“How would you take over MSI?”

“If I knew that, I’d be there, running the place, instead of here,” I said. I was being sarcastic, but he nodded as though it made total sense to him. And it probably did. That was the way he saw the world.

Roger then asked for our impressions from the meeting. Bex didn’t have a lot to say; she seemed pretty shellshocked from the whole affair. Trish commented mildly, “I take it this place is pretty cutthroat—you really have to watch your back. That’s what the pranking was about, right?”

“Everyone’s looking for any advantage possible,” Roger said with a shrug.

“Then maybe the way to set yourself apart is to not stoop to that level. That’s a distraction.”

“Right, right,” he said, nodding.

When it was my turn, I really didn’t know what to say. “I don’t think your boss cares about that petty stuff. I doubt he noticed who stood when he entered. I think if I were you, I’d focus on what I wanted to achieve rather than worrying about competing with anyone else. There were some powerful people in that room. I don’t know enough about them to know who’s smart. But I wouldn’t stop work on the day-to-day stuff while going after the big prize. If you don’t land the big prize, then maybe you can still work your way up gradually.”

He grinned, and I got the feeling his plan had just clicked in his head. That made me wonder what he was going to do next.

 

*

 

The ride home that evening felt longer than normal, but I wasn’t sure if that was just perception, if we got stuck in traffic, or if the driver was trying to lose a follower by taking a different route. I stopped in the vestibule of my building to check the mail before going upstairs and was surprised to find a pink envelope addressed to me. There was no return address, and the address was a label printed on a computer. I might have tossed it as a piece of junk mail, but it had a real “Love” stamp on it rather than having been run through a meter, so I tore open the envelope as I climbed the stairs.

It was a Valentine’s card with a cartoon dog on the front. I opened the card and had to stop halfway up the stairs to catch my balance because I recognized the schoolboy-perfect handwriting inside. Owen had managed to remember the holiday in spite of the circumstances. I felt bad that I hadn’t done anything for him, but I was sure he’d understand.

But the message written inside wasn’t a love note. It was a cryptic instruction to visit a bakery at a particular address. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I felt a surge of hope. Just in case, I ran up the stairs, dropped off the rest of the mail, and ran to my room to change into something a little nicer—cute enough not to feel out-of-place in a romantic situation, but not so cute that I’d look like I was going on a date. After touching up my hair and makeup, I ran out and headed for the address on the card.

Along the way, I tried to temper my expectations. It could have just been his way of giving me a gift. I’d find a cupcake there with my name on it, which wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would be better than I’d expected when I started the day. Rather than let myself get carried away with romantic fantasies, I focused on being aware of my surroundings, making sure I wasn’t being followed.

I reached the bakery and my heart sank when no one was there waiting for me. I approached the counter. “Hi, I was told I needed to come here,” I said, realizing as I said it how odd that sounded.

But the guy at the counter didn’t seem to think it was weird. “Are you Katie? Yeah, I’ve got something for you. Just a second.” He went to a rack behind the counter and came back with a white box. “There’s a card with it. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I could smell the chocolate without opening the box. If this was all I got, it wasn’t a bad consolation prize. I slid the envelope out from under the ribbon binding the box and found a small card inside. Instead of a romantic message, it gave another address a few blocks away.

That address turned out to belong to a florist, where a bouquet of red roses was waiting for me. The card on the bouquet gave yet another address, one that looked like an apartment number rather than a business. It was a newer building, and it had a doorman. I approached him at his post in the lobby, awkwardly moving the bakery box and the roses into my left arm so I could hand him the card from the roses. “I was told to come here.”

He handed me a key and said, “Go right up.” He was definitely expecting me. I didn’t think he’d hand out keys to random people who showed up.

I went up on the elevator and found the apartment. Inside, there was a dining table set with china and more roses. Classical music played softly on a stereo. I set down the bakery box and roses and slipped off my coat, grinning like an idiot. There were two places set on the table, so this had to be a date.

But where was he? I cleared my throat, in case he was lying in wait to surprise me and didn’t realize I was there. I noticed an envelope propped against an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it. The note said, “Have a drink while you wait.” I got the bottle open and poured a glass, then sat down to wait.

I was starting to get worried that something had gone wrong when I finally heard the door unlock. I had a split second to fear that it might not be who I was expecting before Owen appeared in the doorway, carrying takeout bags. I jumped up and ran to greet him. It had been way too long since I’d seen him, and one sight of him made me realize how much I’d missed him. “This is amazing,” I said, hugging him. “I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

“I wasn’t going to miss another Valentine’s Day,” he said, beaming. “I didn’t think you being undercover would count as an excuse.”

“I might have let it slide just this one time.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, my plans are going to have to change. Someone seems to be watching me. I don’t know if it’s because of you or because of my position. I think I shook them, but we can’t risk blowing your cover.”

That dampened my good mood. “I think you’re a target,” I said. “You were a big part of foiling their plans before.”

“Either way, I don’t want them to be able to link you with me now. We’ll have to take a rain check on the romantic dinner and get you out of here.” He set the takeout bags on the table, and I put on my coat. I reluctantly left the roses where I’d set them, since they were rather unwieldy in case I had to maneuver, but on my way out, I grabbed the cake box. I might be deprived of my date night, but no one was taking my chocolate from me.

I paused to give Owen a good kiss before I left. “Thank you for thinking of all this. You made my day.”

“We’ll make up for it when all this is over. Now, go.”

I had to wait a few minutes for an elevator, which made my walk-up apartment not look so bad. When I stepped out of the elevator in the lobby, I saw a couple of men in dark suits talking to the doorman. The doorman pointed in the general direction of the elevators. I hurried to step back on the elevator before the doors closed all the way and hit the button to take me back to the floor I’d left. I didn’t know if the doorman was telling them about Owen or about me, but I didn’t want to take any chances of walking right into them.

Owen opened the door just before I banged on it. “They’re on their way up,” I said. “The doorman seems to have talked.”

He grabbed my arm. “This way.” As we neared the elevators, he waved his hand, and I felt a surge of magic. I’d thought he was summoning an elevator, but we ran past the elevators and down the hall to the stairs. The sign said “roof access,” and, sure enough, Owen headed up rather than down.

“Please tell me you’ve got a helicopter,” I said as I followed him up the stairs. He was on the phone with someone, but I couldn’t hear what he said over the sound of my panting.

It wasn’t too tall a building by New York standards, only about fifteen stories, and we’d been on the eleventh floor. I was used to climbing stairs, but this was more stairs than I usually managed at one time, especially at a run. We burst out onto the roof, where a biting wind greeted us. I pulled my coat tighter around myself. “Now what?” I asked.

“They should be here soon.”

I was afraid to ask who “they” might be. This wasn’t the ideal weather for a magic carpet ride. But while we waited, it was my one chance to fill Owen in on what had happened at work. I told him about the meeting. “That may be why you’re being watched,” I concluded. “The way to move up is to get MSI, and you’re key to that.”

“It looks like Sylvia was right, then. They are coming after us.”

“See, my mission was worthwhile.”

Sam landed on the roof before Owen could respond. “He’ll be here in a jiffy,” he said. “Need me to scope out the ground below?”

“I’m afraid they’re in the building,” Owen said. He turned to me. “I’d better go back down and be in that apartment. My spell may have slowed down the elevators, but they should be up soon. I’ll have to act like it’s a surprise for the person in my department who was letting me use her apartment. If you hear any rumors about me dating someone in the company, you’ll know that this is what it was about.”

“Thank her for helping. I hope she enjoys the dinner and flowers. I’m keeping the cake.”

He grinned. “I thought as much. Enjoy it!” He leaned over to kiss me. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” And then he was gone.

I watched him slip through the doorway and back into the building, and when I turned around to face Sam again, I thought about chasing after Owen. The biggest gargoyle I’d ever seen had just landed on the roof. “Katie, meet Fred,” Sam said. “Fred, Katie. Fred’ll get you out of here just fine.”

I gulped as I looked at the stony beast the size of a pony. “How?” I managed to ask.

“Just climb on board,” Fred said in a voice so deep I felt the roof vibrate under my feet.

Tucking the cake box under my left arm, I grabbed the back of Fred’s wing and pulled myself up. It was surprisingly comfortable once I got settled. I suspected that comfort wouldn’t last for long when we hit the air, and I wasn’t wrong. The wind was cold in my face, and it wasn’t long before I could no longer feel my fingers and toes. Fortunately, we weren’t far from my place, and Fred dropped me on the roof. He waved a hand to unlock the door to the stairs for me. “There you go!” he boomed.

“Thanks for the lift,” I said—or tried to say. My teeth chattered too much for the words to make much sense. I slid off his back and barely caught myself when I landed. I staggered to the door and into the blessed warmth of the stairs, which weren’t heated, but which were out of the wind, which made them feel tropical when compared to the rooftop. I was a little more thawed by the time I reached our floor, but I banged on the apartment door rather than trying to work the key.

Marcia opened the door and let me in. “Where have you been, and what happened to you?” she asked.

“Owen attempted to surprise me for Valentine’s Day,” I said. “Things went awry. Hot cocoa, please, and then I can explain more.”

Without arguing, she put a kettle on, and I sank into one of the dining chairs. I opened the cake box to find that the cake had been somewhat smashed, but it was still chocolate, so I was okay with that. I ran a finger along the edge of the box to get the icing that had smeared off. That revived me enough to say, “It was a nice try, but we’ll have to be more careful. He’s being watched. Or I am. Anyway, I had to make a daring escape. And now I need chocolate.”

She set a mug in front of me. “You’ve got to admit, your Valentine’s Day was more exciting than a card and candy.”

“A card and candy can be pretty nice, though.”

 

*

 

A couple more weeks into my assignment, Roger called me into his office in the morning. “I need you to come with me,” he said.

“Okay, sure,” I replied. “Where?”

With a smile, he said, “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll get you there. Once we’re there, I need you to be my eyes and ears. Observe everything.”

He led me to an elevator that took us to that basement lobby, where a limo waited. Once we were inside, I said, “I don’t know if I’m dressed for the weather outside. My coat’s in my changing room.”

“Did you think we didn’t consider that?” he said, gesturing to the seat next to me. I looked down and realized that the folded black material beside me was an overcoat.

We rode for some time in the blacked-out car. I was getting used to the sensation of not knowing where I was, but with Roger, going to a meeting during the day, it became unsettling again. I found myself wondering how often this was likely to happen and whether I’d be subject to the same magical screening as when I normally came and went. Would I have a chance to pass on anything or bring anything back?

But first, I supposed, I had to see what this meeting would entail. The car stopped, and both Roger and I put on our coats before getting out. I found myself in lower Manhattan, not too far from MSI. I nearly tripped over my own feet when I saw the name of the company we were visiting. It was the firm on one of my lists that MSI had managed to steer away from the Collegium. Now it looked like the Collegium wasn’t going to take their departure lying down.