Page 40 of Old Secrets

Jake snorted and tightened his hold on me. “A machine gun has a higher rate of fire because you can use a proper clip with it. A rocker launcher is just ridiculous. Why would you want a rocket launcher?”

“They’re fun, and I would only need one round if they’re stupid enough to stand together, Jake.”

“You’re just mad you weren’t allowed to defect in London.”

I turned my saddest eyes on Jake. “But they let me fire the rocket launcher.”

“I’m sorry, Karma. And if the Inquisition does let you use one, you’re going to have to learn how to aim them. You better just stick to your strengths and either use your claws and teeth or the machine gun.”

I shrugged. “I’ll make do, but I think that I’m going to need a rocket launcher, Jake.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.”

ELEVEN

“You could have stopped me at any time.”

Our hosts gave us wrapped presents we were to open later, plied us with tea and dinner, and provided us with a history of the group’s operations in Japan. None of us knew, for certain, what to call them. What Jake and I knew as the Greenwich group operated on a different scale than Yamāntaka. In Japan, they shared more tendencies with the group plaguing my parents, but their goals fell more in line with what we expected from the Greenwich group.

Tiring of listening to the debate, the confusion multiple names created, and wanting to settle down to the important business of murdering child-killing bastards, I said, “We should just lump them all together under Greenwich. First, if this Yamāntaka group wishes to become gods, we strip them of their desire by refusing to acknowledge their goals. While Mr. Greenwich likely dislikes that his family has become the foundational naming for this organization, his case is where the truth began to surface. Second…”

Scowling, I realized I hadn’t thought of a second reason for my proposal. No matter what we did, the group’s actions would leave scars on our souls. We worked to prevent any more harm, something I had learned early on in the FBI.

No matter what we did, investigations rarely took us to the places we wished to go, delving into the darkest waters of society. The scars sometimes faded.

Sometimes, they did not.

My parents endured many scars, and one of them was in the shape of my entire life. That one might heal, depending on the choices we made in the upcoming days. The rest of their scars, each one in the shape of a child they had desperately wished to love and see thrive in the world, would remain.

Not even millions of years could defeat my mother’s love.

If only humanity could say the same.

Everyone stared at me, and I shrugged. “When I’m honest with myself, I don’t need a second reason. These bastards wish to become gods, so let us strip them of everything they have worked for. We should begin with their name. Greenwich is as good a name as any, and it represents a failure for them—and a success for us. Annabelle Greenwich survived, and the group lost their ability to access a sensitive weapon system. But we should look at that as part of the differences between the branches of this group. If we think of them like the FBI or the Inquisition, it’s not hard to wrap our heads around. One facet of the group wants divinity. Others want power of a different nature, in the form of weapons. Weapons are a tool on the global stage, one meant to intimidate, to control, and to begin or end wars. They could be terrorists—or they could be trying to work the global domination angle. If they are only partially aware that witches, Fenerec, and immortal foxes exist, then having a pair of immortal foxes would be a huge power play for them. I’m still learning about the Inquisition, but I worked with Jake for years without having any idea he was more than a highly irritating man.”

My mate and husband snorted, and if we had been in America, he would have dragged me on to his lap in one of his possessive demonstrations. Rather than fall prey to his usual urges, he huffed at me. “And when I wasn’t highly irritating you, you wanted me. Admit it, Karma.”

“No.”

He pouted, and I smiled at his reaction.

“She makes a good point.” My father fiddled with the tray of sand and water, and he created a mountain slope with a carved stone entry flanked with a pair of pillars wrapped in fox tails. “When I think about it through her eyes, that could be precisely it. Once old enough, we essentially do become immortal. We are difficult to kill, and we can slumber for thousands of years. This age has been interesting, so we have only slept for short periods.”

“Six to eight hours most nights, to be specific,” my mother stated, and she smirked at my father. “When things become interesting, we don’t sleep at all. It’s been a few weeks since we have opted for sleep. Our bodies no longer need it, not like we once did. We can sleep when we want to, but it’s not necessary. But if they wish to cow humanity with our visage and the idea that we are immortal, that could work. Humanity is a herd species, prey—easily funneled where we might wish for them to go on a hunt. Early on, they entertained us. We did not kill them during our hunts, but we entertained ourselves frightening them into good behavior. We had a forest then, not far from these parts.”

I realized my parents likely had been the origin of fox myths, and I leveled a glare at them. “You tricked them into thinking you were demons!”

My mother grinned and my father shrugged.

“Having seen what you can do to a couch in five minutes, I feel that they did not have to do much to trick them beyond being present,” Jake teased.

I turned my head and issued a warning chitter. “You could have stopped me at any time.”

“And deprive you of a chance to indulge in some furry destruction? We needed a new couch anyway. But, if Greenwich doesn’t know about Fenerec or witches, and they believe that foxes are the only supernatural forces on the planet, why do they want to control you for their plans? That’s what I don’t understand.” Jake leaned over, snagged me by the waist, and pulled me close to him. He didn’t haul me on to his lap, but he tucked me close to his side.

I recognized his wolf driving the behavior and relaxed against him to dull the edge of his protective instincts. “They have demonstrable power, Jake. You’re just handsome and annoying unless you turn into a wolf, and then your breath stinks, you’re handsome, and you’re annoying.”

He chuckled. “And neither of those things look all that impressive.”