Chapter 33 — Self-Made

"There is a famous quote about magic: that it could merely be technology so sufficiently advanced we cannot distinguish the two. I do not hold with this belief. Magic may obey rules, and it may abide by certain consistencies akin to the laws of nature, but I have seen things so impossible that they defy all traditional definitions of science. Show me the man who can truly explain magic. Show me the woman who can tell me without a shadow of a doubt that magic could have been invented by any civilization, human or otherwise.

We may treat it as science to satisfy our need for logic and patterns, but that is our greatest folly—to assume we could predict the next great development in the arcane arts. I take comfort in the notion that magic will continue to produce phenomena which defy human logic, and I find true joy in the discovery of miracles."

~Cinza, the Rallsburg Diaries

Jeremy didn't get much sleep on Wednesday night, and it was threatening to become a habit.

After Hailey blew out of the church in the middle of her eulogy, the rest of the funeral party went their separate ways in pretty short order. Cinza and her group disappeared before Jeremy could get a single word in with the strange silver-haired girl—and after they left, nobody else wanted to stick around in a building that was suddenly quite exposed to the outside world.

He ended up giving the Silverdale parents a ride back to their home. Beth Silverdale thanked him again, but it felt so hollow and empty that Jeremy just felt worse. Jesus Christ…

He knew exactly where Hailey was headed, and he couldn't do a thing for her. Stebbins hadn't gotten anything out of the last guy they'd picked off the street. Todd Piller, former Army Ranger, without a shred of evidence linking him to anything of note. Discharged honorably, no less. It made Jeremy sick, thinking a guy like that had come out of his own country's training.

After stonewalling them for a few hours, Piller had been turned over to the FBI, hand-delivered by Jeremy to Aderholt's office. He'd been hoping at the very least to get reinstated, maybe some actual clearance to start helping out Maddie and Rachel in earnest, but his old boss was still just as pissed as always. Aderholt practically shouted him out of the building, telling him to stay out of it and leave the work to the "agents who actually deserve motherfucking badges."

As a result—thanks to his continued suspension and distrust from the department—Jeremy couldn't even get a ticket to London for himself. Aderholt, reinforcing his true nature as the asshole of all assholes, had Jeremy on every no-fly list in the continent and beyond. Jeremy was grounded for the time being, even more restricted than he had been before Hailey left. He could even hear them shouting about her. They were worried about their cooperation, since she was suddenly violating international law and travelling around the world, but damned if the FBI was going to use their best connected agent for the situation.

No Hailey, no Lani, no Grey-eyes. Fuck. What's my job now? Just stick around Rachel?

"I'm all right here," Rachel replied, once he'd arrived at the hotel and asked that very question. "How was the funeral?"

"Depressing," said Maddie, unloading her bags. "The sooner we get this rolling, the better."

"How long until you announce?" Jeremy asked. "And more importantly, the fuck are you announcing?" He was a bit tired of being kept in the dark. It wasn't malicious in any way, what with Jeremy darting all around town trying to keep up with people like Hailey and Jonathan Hudson—but Grey-eyes' warning about Rachel still rang through his skull like a stubborn tune. "We savin' the world yet?"

"Not exactly," said Rachel, frowning. "Just the first initiative of cooperation between Washington and the Awakened. We still need to coordinate with Cinza though."

"She still thinks you're in the wind, doesn't she?"

"Yes." She sighed. "I'm working my way up to it."

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Just call the damn hippie already." Maddie elbowed him in the side. "...Sorry." But she is a fuckin' hippie if ever I knew one. New-age as hell, but still.

Maddie and Rachel got to work soon after, leaving Jeremy impatient again. They were planning something huge, he could tell, but the timing wasn't right. They couldn't launch while Hailey was still dominating the headlines. People were afraid of her, and all the things that kept happening around her. Someone had to rein her in—if anybody even could.

It wasn't going to be Jeremy though. He had a different job to do, one that decided to phone right that moment.

"...Well, that was fast." Maddie nodded along with the faint voice through her phone speaker. "Uh huh. Yeah. I'll send him over first thing in the morning."

"...What am I gettin' volunteered for?" Jeremy groaned, sitting up and putting aside his laptop. He'd just gotten the basketball game stream to work, too. "And how many guns am I gonna need?"

"None, hopefully," said Maddie, pocketing her phone. "That was Kendra Laushire."

He gaped at her. "No shit."

"You have Kendra's personal number?" asked Rachel, raising her eyebrows.

Maddie shrugged. "You get to meet tons of interesting people in my line of work." She glanced over at Jeremy. "Kendra wants you to meet her at her Seattle office tomorrow morning, eight sharp."

"Fuck m—"

"And it's a private office," she added. "She's under a fake name, don't forget."

"Yeah, yeah," Jeremy grumbled, getting to his feet. "Didn't happen to say why, did she?"

"Not a word," said Maddie, though as soon as Rachel looked away, Maddie gave him a significant look. Expect trouble, she was saying. Jeremy took a deep breath as he left the room. He needed to get some real sleep, if he was going to be babysitting a British billionaire all morning from who-knew-what. As soon as he got home, Jeremy was out like a light.

Thursday night wasn't any better, as Jeremy once again only got a few hours of sleep. Sure, he'd fallen asleep right away, but that didn't help much when he kept waking up in the middle of the night, hand clutching his pistol, half-expecting someone to have teleported into his room with intent to kill. Motherfucking magic…

Grumpy and exhausted, Jeremy sipped his coffee as he rode the bus across Seattle to meet with Kendra. Public transit was as crowded as ever, with the steady growth of incoming pilgrims—as Cinza called them, and as someone in the media apparently agreed with—looking to awaken. They stood out by their attitude alone, and the bus divided itself quite evenly between the excited magic-seekers and the usual nine-to-five crowd. No one crossed the line or said anything, but there was such an obvious undercurrent of hostility that Jeremy half-expected it to erupt into a gang war somehow.

It didn't, of course, but he could feel the tension in the air. Something had to give sooner or later. The public wasn't really involved yet, despite all appearances. Every little skirmish was just Hailey and Brian's men, or Hailey and Malton's. Sure, a few bystanders got caught up, but the public didn't have a clue what was really going on.

Maddie, you'd better hurry up and figure out if Rachel's legit or not… I don't know how much longer we can keep this up. Lines are already gettin' drawn.

Jeremy stepped off the bus and found, to his surprise, an unassuming little office stuck right in between a coffee shop and a supermarket. It was so far removed from the extravagance he expected, he laughed aloud. He tossed his coffee into the trash can by the door and strode past the little sign on the wall advertising Wilmore Ventures. As soon as he took a step inside, the scent of his coffee vanished, along with the sounds of the city.

"Mr. Ashe, Miss Wilmore is expecting you," said the receptionist, before Jeremy could even open his mouth. The young man pointed him through the back into a rear office, where Kendra Laushire herself was busy typing away on her laptop. She glanced up at the clock, brushing her curly red hair out of her eyes.

"You're early, Mr. Ashe."

"Figured you didn't want to be kept waitin'," said Jeremy, taking the nearest chair. It was comfortable, if a bit plain, and he relaxed his legs gratefully. "It's only seven fifty-five."

"Indeed." Kendra tapped a few more keys and spun her laptop around, showing Jeremy the screen. "This is why I called."

Jeremy leaned in close. It was security camera footage of the building's entrance, dated from the night before. Two men walked right up to the door and tried to break in. The picture was crystal-clear, and as one of the men turned away in futility, Jeremy caught a glimpse of his face.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered.

"I assumed you'd recognize him," said Kendra, nodding with satisfaction. "The unfortunate incident in Tacoma, correct?"

"How the hell did you know him?" asked Jeremy. "They wouldn't accept my testimony, let the motherfucker walk. He dropped off the radar." He glared at the face frozen on the monitor—a face he'd last seen holding a gun to the old man's head in a bar, the day he'd met Hailey.

"The video published on the night of the interview contained two frames in which a partial badge number was identifiable, after a reconstructive algorithm was applied," said Kendra. "Not enough to convict, mind you, but I was convinced after I heard he'd taken a leave of absence from the Tacoma Police Department."

"And now he's tryin' to break into your office." Jeremy put his hands to his forehead. "Shit."

Kendra nodded. "Quite." She closed the laptop lid and folded her hands on top. "It seems Mr. Hendricks has discovered my place of business."

"Can you move?"

"Not easily." Kendra glanced over his shoulder at the window next to the door. It was empty, but even so, she lowered her voice a little. "I suspect you may have felt a shift in the air quality as you entered the building?"

Jeremy nodded slowly. "...And?"

"We aren't presently in Seattle," she explained. Of course we fuckin' aren't. Motherfucking magic. "This was the best security I could procure, given the circumstances."

"Except it ain't, if you're callin' me," Jeremy pointed out.

"Yes." Kendra picked up her laptop and dropped it into her bag. She got to her feet with a regal, precise air. "I fear I am no longer safe here, regardless of any otherworldly devices I might employ. I wish to depart at once."

Jeremy scrambled up as well. He hadn't expected to be moving again so soon. His joints groaned in protest, but he couldn't exactly just stay there. Especially if the place wasn't… well, real wasn't the right word, but it definitely wasn't going to be a good place to stick around once the boss left.

"Where are we goin'?" he asked, pulling his coat back on.

"For the time being, I'm accepting a long-belated invitation to the Greywood," said Kendra, who picked up a thick dark winter coat from the rack by the door and slid it on. She murmured something under her breath, and her hair shifted color into a drab brown, straightening out as it went. Kendra tied it up into a bun before she opened the door. "I trust you can make the arrangements? We shouldn't linger."

Gonna have to call in a favor… "I'll see what I can do."

"Good." Kendra swept out of the office, Jeremy hurrying to keep up in her wake. She called down the hallway to her receptionist, letting the whole place know they were done early for the weekend and to enjoy their holiday break. As soon as the place emptied, they stepped back into the cold November chill, and Kendra locked up the door behind her.

"It's just an empty buildin', right?" Jeremy asked as she did. "Why bother lockin' it?"

"Appearances," she replied. She dropped the keys into her bag and pulled on a pair of thick, warm gloves. Jeremy rubbed his own hands together, wishing he had the same—and to his surprise, she produced another pair, though they could not possibly have fit in such a small bag. A pair of scarves came with it, one for her and one for himself, of a rich dark cloth that matched perfectly.

"...Thanks." He pulled out his phone, and the gloves were even the capacitive type that could still use touch screens. Quickly, he dialed up his friend in dispatch—well, Lani's friend in dispatch, but Jeremy felt like he was owed a few favors too. "Ben, I need a car. Somethin' discreet."

"We're tied up to hell and back," he replied. "Goddamn magic-hunting tourists. Gonna be at least thirty minutes."

"Fuck." Jeremy glanced at Kendra, who was watching down the street with an uneasy look. "Send it out. We'll be waiting at…" He rattled off the name of a coffee shop two blocks over, just in case.

"You got it."

They set off, Jeremy just a few steps ahead. To his surprise, Kendra took his hand a moment later. He glanced over, and she gave a smile that read entirely fake to him. In her heels, Kendra was actually several inches taller than him, but she was walking with a slight stoop to mask the difference.

"We're a couple," she said, and her accent was gone, replaced with a passable imitation of a Pacific Northwest accent. Jeremy could still tell she was upper-class English, but he doubted anyone else would be around long enough to notice. "We're merely out for breakfast before your day at work."

He shrugged. "Sure, why not." The sooner we get out of here, the better.

They hadn't made it halfway down the block before someone recognized them.

"Hey, that's Agent Ashe!"

Son of a bitch… Jeremy kept walking, as if he hadn't heard the man, but a small crowd was already starting to form. The streets were so crowded already, and half of the people didn't belong—tourists and pilgrims alike flocking to the city.

"Who's that he's with?"

"You think it's one of them?"

Kendra squeezed his hand. "We should find somewhere more discreet," she murmured.

Jeremy nodded. They sped up their walk, not so much that the crowd might think they were trying to run, but more than enough to outpace them.

"She's probably awakened!"

"Hey, how do we do it?"

"Tell us!"

Just keep walkin'... Jeremy took every opportunity he could to glance at the crowd—in shop windows, on corner mirrors, even in the windshield of an oncoming car. As long as he didn't turn around. To his dismay, none of them seemed to have lost interest. If anything, the crowd was growing.

Worse, it was splitting in two. Shouts from each half began to overlap, as the people called out to the both of them.

"You're taking her away, right? Lock her up!"

"How do I do magic? Tell me!"

"They're dangerous! Lock them all up!"

Jeremy sped up a little more. "Coulda stayed in your damn office…" he muttered.

"That might have been wise," Kendra agreed. She stumbled a little as her heel caught on a sidewalk grating, but she recovered quickly enough and didn't lose an ounce of momentum for it. "It's too late now."

"Got any more tricks in that bag?" he asked, speaking louder to be heard over the growing shouts.

"Not precisely," she said. She began murmuring under her breath, eyes half-closed, while Jeremy guided her down the street. He had no idea what was about to happen, but he couldn't imagine Kendra wanted to hurt any of them, so he trusted the woman. Besides, she'd asked him to keep her safe, and that was his damn job. No matter what happened, Jeremy was going to make sure Kendra Laushire made it out of the city in one piece.

But, of course, Kendra ended up being the one to get him out in one piece.

Just as the mob seemed about to surround them, Kendra yanked Jeremy into an alley. They were only out of sight for an instant, but it was enough. As soon as they vanished into the shadows, Kendra pulled him straight up against the wall and placed a finger on her lips.

Jeremy didn't dare to breathe. The crowd spilled into the alley, hurrying down and across to the next street over. Kendra had put them up against a dumpster where no one was likely to walk, but even so, Jeremy felt a few people brush against his coat. No one noticed them, even though he stood only a few inches away. Soon enough, the people broke into a run, chasing nothing down the next block and out of sight.

"...Nice trick," Jeremy sighed.

Kendra shrugged, stepping away and brushing dust off of her jacket with a cloth. "Please inform me—"

She broke into a fit of coughs, almost doubling over. Jeremy started forward in alarm, but she waved him off. It only took a minute for her to recover and straighten up.

"When our vehicle arrives," she finished, patting the cloth to her mouth.

"Fuckin' hell, are you okay?"

"Quite fine, thank you."

Kendra seemed about to lean against the wall, but took one look at the dirty exterior of the building and changed her mind. Jeremy shook his head and headed out to the street, where their ride had already shown up in front of the coffeeshop, just half a block away. He waved Ben over, and the man pulled up right to the curb and hopped out.

Jeremy offered her a gloved hand, which she took gratefully. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Kendra nodded. The corner of her lip twitched, curling upward.

"Let's."