The Queen's Pain

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ken leaned on the gate. “This is a closed community,” she called out to Cortez. “We don’t let strangers in. It’s nothin’ personal, but we just can’t trust people nowadays. If you wanna pass through, you can hand over your weapons and walk it. We’ll drive the trucks for ya and give all your stuff back. But you can’t come in here with those cannons.”

Cortez looked Kenna over with suspicion. “I know you.” It wasn’t a question, but the look on her face said that she couldn’t remember where and when.

“I doubt it,” Ken retorted. “Ain’t never seen nobody like you before. I take it you’re national. Hasn’t been a state government in at least five months, and that’s pushin’ it.” Her back-country slang was mostly acting, but after living in New Somerset for so long, it came naturally whenever she needed it. “So, if you don’t mind me askin’, what do ya want?”

“What is this, like a fort?”

She smiled nice and wide in the hope of conveying a mental simplicity that Kenna didn’t actually possess. “Well, yeah, I guess you could say that. ‘Cept we ain’t military or nothin’. Just regular people who got together and formed an independent municipality.” For the last two words, she spoke slowly, as though they were difficult for her to pronounce with confidence. “We can defend ourselves, sure, but it’s mostly about keepin’ bad stuff out.” She looked Cortez straight in the eyes. “Like a bunch of soldiers with automatic rifles. No offense.”

Cortez made a sweeping glance at her armed guards before turning back to Kenna. “Are you aware that the entire country is under martial law?” As in, theoretically, the military should have access to any town they wanted.

Ken laughed. “Are you aware,” she mimicked the woman’s tone, “that you’re isolated from damn near everything else? Wavin’ around weapons and makin’ demands is a good way to get disappeared here in these mountains. I’d be careful if I was you.”

Unsurprisingly, the threat changed Cortez’s expression from mild annoyance to anger. But she suppressed it in favor of remaining civil. “I think we can handle one little town.”

“Do you wanna bet?”

She tilted her head to one side. Smiling, “You have magic here, don’t you?”

Ken rolled her eyes. “This is Colorado. We don’t need nothin’ special to defend ourselves. Everybody’s a marksman, and we prolly got more experience than your commandos.” That part wasn’t a lie. The locals were all hunters in their off-time. Some, since they were young kids. It served as a valuable part of New Somerset’s food supply.

“Well, that’s interesting. Because the person I’m looking for uses magic and guns on a regular basis. Or, at least he did. Do you have anyone like that here?” She seemed proud of herself for the deduction.

They had dozens of people who fit that description. In fact, Cortez was speaking to one right now. The best combination in the whole town, adept in both shooting and talisman-wielding: Kenna Crossley, who only didn’t have a reputation because her dad insisted.

Her dad. Of course, Cortez was here to see him. She had a long history of popping up out of the blue to speak to Dakota or try and use him for something. This behavior indirectly resulted in the death of Dakota’s former lover Gage, who despite limited mention nowadays might very well be the most important—and last—person with whom he ever attempted a romantic relationship. He wouldn’t be happy to see her, not that he ever was to begin with.

“Nope,” Ken replied plainly. “Like I said. We don’t need none of those magic stones. They cause us enough trouble just by existin’.”

But Cortez didn’t buy it, either because it wasn’t true or because she needed it not to be. “You may not need them but that doesn’t mean you don’t have them. You’d do well not to lie to me, little girl. It’s been a long f*****g drive, and I am not in the mood. Tell me where Dakota Crossley is.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she tried to remain calm. “Who?”

One of the soldiers c****d his gun for effect.

Cortez took a step forward. “You know damn well who. The famous assassin. Bring him to us, or we will start looking for him, one house at a time.”

She dropped the act. “Retired assassin. He’s no good to you now.” Multiple sclerosis, in combination with lingering wounds from a week of torture, resulted in her dad being permanently on the injured list. Though Adelaide would prefer he kept up missions, Dakota simply didn’t have the strength. And anyway, what was the point? There were so many possible enemies. The whole country had become one large danger zone while the rest of the world struggled to avoid the same fate. They needed him here, to help protect everyone. Their continued survival was more important than meager attempts at destroying evil.

“But he’s here?” Her face lit up.

“He’s somewhere. But you won’t find him unless I want you to. You won’t even come close. So, what, exactly, do you want?”

There was a long pause. It seemed as though Cortez had little interest in sharing her intentions with anyone but Dakota. Since she didn’t know about Kenna’s familial relation to him, she must have looked like a complete stranger, a gatekeeper standing between Cortez and her quarry. Finally, “I wish to consult with him on current events.”

“Consult?”

“I want to ask him about what’s going on, and possibly, hire him to help contain it.”

Kenna laughed again. Cortez had a better chance of being hit by lightning—the natural kind—than getting Dakota to work for the Feds. But if that was truly her reason for making the trip, then Ken saw no reason why they couldn’t humor her. “Your dogs stay outside. No weapons. You try anything stupid, and you’re dead. Entiendes?”

Cortez glared at her, but acquiesced with a subtle nod. Kenna didn’t bother opening the gate. A person on foot could easily jump it, and anyway, it took more than one individual to open the heavy makeshift barricade. With a motion of her head, Ken instructed Cortez to climb over and follow her.

When she did, the two walked slowly to a nearby house, the ground floor of which often served as a sort of break room for people on patrol. It was one of the few buildings where the front door always remained unlocked. The second level and basement—both containing newly renovated apartments—were closed to the public. This ruby-colored, smallish home would be the perfect place to take a dangerous stranger.

Two resting guards, one wearing a talisman openly, and the other with a gun in his lap, looked up at them. They both had large mugs of coffee and looked tired. Ken hated to have to tell them to leave, but luckily, they did it without asking. “Be careful,” the magic-touting one whispered as he passed them by. She gave him a knowing look.

Without a word to Cortez, Kenna walked over to the wall, picked up a landline phone, and pressed the number three. Katya’s cellphone. Number one was a panic button that sounded a town-wide alert. Two was Ken’s emergency mobile. It rang a few times before Katya answered. “Da?”

She only responded that way when she felt nervous, a likely byproduct of the military scrutiny.

“Katya.” Ken searched her mind for something reassuring to say in return. “U strakha glaza veliki.” Essentially, the soldiers were more menacing than actually dangerous. All bark and no bite, in other words.

“How do you know?” she replied in a low voice.

“Just trust me.” After a quick look at Cortez, Ken continued. “Can you send DC to TLRH?” Literally The Little Red House. All the important buildings had nicknames or acronyms. That way, they could shout to each other in the event of an attack or talk in front of outsiders without fear of being understood. Normally, Dakota would simply be “my dad,” but since Ken didn’t want Cortez to know their relationship, that wouldn’t work for this conversation.

“Uh, should he be—”

Worried? Armed? Ready to kill someone? “It’s fine.”

“Okay. I will tell him.”

“Thanks.” With that, she hung up, swiveled on one foot, and turned to Cortez. “He’s coming. Have a seat. He’ll be here soon.”

Cortez obliged, but retained a stiff posture. “How long have you known him?”

Ken grinned and paced over to one of the front windows. It had been eight years already. A lifetime, she thought, despite the small number. It certainly felt like she’d known him since birth. And she wished, every day, that she’d been raised by him the whole time, instead of by the man who once liked to call himself her father. With a sigh, “Long enough to know he won’t help you.”

Shrugging, “He’s helped me before.”

“Years ago, I’m sure. And you probably had leverage.” Which she most assuredly didn’t have now. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kill you just for asking.”

“If that happens, my people will storm this place.”

“Then they’ll die, too.”

Cortez scoffed. But her posture didn’t change. She knew she was at risk. For her, the chance to speak with Dakota was worth endangering herself and the others. They’d come in search of treasure, or maybe more accurately, a cure for the disease infecting their nation. She wouldn’t find it here, but it probably wouldn’t matter to her. She had to try. She was desperate.

Footsteps on the stoop hailed Dakota’s arrival. Cortez stood up as the door opened, but once Dakota saw her, he did not enter. “Oh, f**k you,” he spoke with exasperation. “Get the hell out of here, Cortez. Whatever you want, I’m not interested.”

Ken stepped back so as to physically remove herself from the exchange—the kind of thing someone would do if they felt they had no personal stake in the outcome. Of course, that wasn’t quite true.

The agent stood her ground. “I come in peace.” She lifted her hands defensively. “Just let me say what I’ve got to say, and then I’ll go, all right? It’s not like you’re terribly busy. C’mon, Crossley. Just like old times.”

Ken winced. Old times, like when Gage was still alive? But it didn’t seem like the thought even occurred to her dad, who raised both eyebrows and squinted from the brightness of the room. At only twenty-seven, he already had crow’s-feet forming at the edges of his eyes. Though two years of rest did him good, his illness and stress showed readily on his face.

“What is it?”

“Society is crumbling. In case you haven’t noticed. We need to get a handle on these stones. I could really use an insider on my team. Somebody who knows how these things work and how to stop them. And more importantly, someone who can use them to tame the chaos. The president asked me if I knew anyone. Only one name came to mind.”

“You honestly think I would come work for you in Washington?”

She shook her head. “The District’s practically abandoned. We’re in Richmond now.” After a pause, “And yes. I think you want to help people. This is a great way to do it, and a lot safer than playing assassin. You’d be my right-hand man. Top of the food chain. Direct access to everything and reporting only to me.”

“And my talismans?”

Her jaw clenched, but she smiled. “You’d keep them, of course.”

“Until I made someone uncomfortable, then I assume you’d find a way to try and take them from me.”

“No,” she replied. “We have a cache of our own. We don’t need yours, except perhaps for you to use them to remedy some of the problems. That’s part of why we want you. You bring knowledge and power. It’s a good combo.”

Dakota shot a glance at Kenna. Licking his lips, “Where did you get them? Your stones?”

Her smile turned into a sly grin. “New Orleans, mostly. Didn’t you think we’d search your old hideout? We used divers.”

Ken let out a low growl and gripped a nearby end table. Her dad took a similar approach: “Must’ve been a big surprise to find a room full of bloated corpses.”

“It was, actually. One agent drowned as a result.”

“Good,” Ken added despite her best interest. She should have stayed out of the conversation, but she couldn’t help herself. Those were her friends, her family. To have them grave-robbed by government types was not only reprehensible but sickening. And on top of it all, those talismans belonged to Adel and Dakota and the network.

But Ken’s temporary lack of self-control didn’t come without consequences. Cortez turned her head and addressed Kenna. “I take it you knew them, which means you were there.”

Backtracking, Ken shrugged. “Everyone here knows the story. And more importantly, we all understand that when it comes to the lives of good people who have talismans, the government can neither be trusted nor relied on for intel. You and your whole department are toxic. You’re more likely to get one or all of our people killed than you are to actually help. I bet you don’t know a damn thing about what you’re up against.”

“I am curious as to what you think you’re offering me in return,” Dakota added.

“A chance to protect people,” she supplied. Then, “And I know exactly what I’m fighting. You forget that we had to clean up the mess in New Orleans, that Appalachia is our backyard. And I don’t know if you’re heard or not, but half the country is starving and the other half is suffering from so many weird diseases that the Center for Disease Control could never hope to handle it all. We’re combating the utter destruction of this country by forces stronger and stranger than anything we’ve ever seen before.”

Dakota snorted. Though the pitch would definitely pull on his heart strings, his sense of obligation to the world, it came from quite possibly the worst person who could deliver it. “What do you think we’re doing here?”

“Weathering the storm. Hiding, instead of doing what you were meant to do.”

Another mistake. Dakota didn’t believe in fate or anything like that. He did once, just long enough to sustain himself on a delusion of an afterlife with his dead partner. But not now. He only lived to survive and to help others, namely his daughter. He felt that turning New Somerset into a fortress was currently the best way to ensure Kenna’s safety. He would need real evidence of the contrary to abandon that approach. “Maybe. But since we built this place, we haven’t lost anybody.”

Not exactly true, but close.

Continuing, “And we need to survive for there to be any hope after the storm is over. If I were you, I’d find a way to do the same, Cortez. Because it might be my job to fight, but it’s not yours. There’s no way in hell you could live through a direct battle, to be honest, even with all the guidance and stolen talismans in the world. Dump the job. Take off. If you wanna live, I don’t see another option for you.”

She took a long time to respond, her cheeks growing red with frustration. Clenching her teeth, Cortez headed for the exit. “I take it that’s a ‘no.’”

“That’s a ‘f**k no,’ mixed with ‘you’re out of your mind and should stop what you’re doing.’” He looked over at Kenna once more, as though to say that he would never consider such a thing, whether it meant bringing her along to Virginia or leaving her alone here. Dakota wanted her to know that her opinion on the matter was important, and that he wouldn’t betray her. He said all of this with his eyes and a little drop of his jaw. She heard the unspoken words as loudly as if he’d screamed them.

Ken took a step closer to her dad. “Don’t bring army guys here again,” she warned. “We cannot guarantee their safety, or yours. On the journey here or at our gates.”

She ignored Kenna, choosing instead to look over at Dakota. “I would have thought, in a place like this, that you would be in charge. That or your boss, being the strongest. Which means that either of you willingly relinquished it to a kid. Why on earth would you do a thing like that?” It seemed clear that, having lost a chance at employing Dakota, she hoped to garner information from him. But in this, too, Cortez made a grave error. Dakota didn’t care for anyone as much as he did his daughter. He wouldn’t allow even the smallest amounts of disrespect, and he certainly would never bow to such a blatant form of manipulation.

“The town is in good hands,” he answered, “and her threat is valid. My young associate runs this place better than anyone else could. She’s a stern but fair leader, and I would suggest not taking her words lightly. We all have a purpose and a job here. Hers is taking care of the rest of us. If she sees you as dangerous—well, you get the idea, right? And those are some fancy vehicles you got there. Add a nice coat of paint, and people might not even think they’re military.”

Kenna doubted that her dad would actually kill Cortez unless the woman did something really stupid. If he wanted her dead, he would’ve taken her out long ago. But it was nice to see him considering the scenario. He was still capable of violence if he needed to, despite a two-year vacation. In the event that he had to do it again—

First things first. Ken chimed in. “You’ve offered us nothing. You reminded us that you possess some items that rightfully belong to members of our group. You made demands. Generally, you’re an annoyance. I’m thinking your time here is done. Good luck getting back to Virginia. I heard there’s a giant crack in the earth where most of Kansas used to be.”

“Do you really think mountains and a few fences will protect you? Do you have you any idea what’s out there?”

The girl shrugged. “We know we’re better off here than with you. I’ll escort you back to the gate, and you can be on your way.” Ken opened the door and motioned for Cortez to leave. Though she hesitated, she eventually meandered out onto the porch.

Looking back at her dad, she caught a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to deal with Cortez or even look at her. Too many bad memories. He’d be happy to see her go.

Ken stayed close enough to Cortez so as not to raise concern among any townspeople who saw a stranger in their midst. But she found her repulsive. “To answer your earlier question,” in a way that revealed almost nothing, “Dakota holds a position of authority here, but he has earned the peace our community provides.”

“You talk about him like he’s dying.”

She shook her head emphatically. Sick, sure, but not dying. Not even close. “Absolutely not. He’ll probably outlive the rest of us. Because he’s smart.” She laughed off the implication of an early demise, even though it worried her. “No, we just care about him. Dearly.”

“Everyone, or just you?”

Ken rolled her eyes. “I said ‘we,’ didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Goodbye, Miss Cortez.” She stopped in her tracks a few yards from the gate and waved toward the soldiers. “Don’t come back.”

She gave a silent glare before jumping over the partition and joining her team. One by one, the armed guards returned to their vehicles, started the engines, and made U-turns on the highway. Ken stood and watched. She didn’t waver or let her muscles relax until they were out of sight. Moments later, a group of five sentries on current duty wriggled out from between houses and down from the forest. They’d been watching, too, but they didn’t want to intervene or set off a firestorm by accident.

“We can take it from here,” one man said in a bright tone.

“Is the town hall still going? Or have they all scattered by now?” The interruption meant a shortened irritable task, but it was still Kenna’s responsibility. One she valued.

“No, ma’am,” chimed in the youngest of the group, a hardy teenager named Molly whose tendency toward androgyny reminded her a little of a certain Japanese musician. “But they sure liked your power project. People clapped. I think a lotta folks have been hopin’ for somethin’ like that for a long time now. Makes ‘em feel safer.”

That was the idea. “Oh, good. I’ll ensure we have decent progress by the next meeting.”