Yeah, I had suspicions. Who would try to steal a seeress? Vampires weren’t smart enough. Witches could do divination spells. Any kind of decent hunter would just have asked.
Another deity? Unlikely. Heck, a demon was unlikely too.

Which meant that their employer was somebody who knew about the supernatural but didn’t know what they were doing about it. My worst fear was that it was…the government.

Because, maybe, I’d read too many comic books along those lines, but really, if I thought about it? It made far too much sense. Riding shotgun with Mike, I voiced. “What if it’s the government?”

“You have a nasty mind.”

“I know, but think about it. You can’t say it’s remotely unlikely that they would know about the supernatural, but possibly not enough about it.”

“And they would certainly…great. If those were our security operatives?”

“It’s not too late to pull out. I can drive.” I was actually feeling uncertain about continuing with this myself, but what else could I do?

“No. Even if it’s the government, they don’t get to do things like this.” He frowned, hands on the wheel. “Not just kidnap people who didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Right, but they could make you disappear. I have a way to get out if that happens. You people don’t.”

From the back seat, Kanesha spoke up, “You think I ever trust the government, Sig?”

She’d taken to calling me that in private. I’d taken to liking it.

“No, I don’t think you do. I’m amazed you’re in a car with a cop,” I quipped. “But that’s not the point. We’re going to make them hate us, if I’m right.”

“And if you’re right, they need…we need to blow it wide open if we can.”

I realized I’d tightened my hands to white knuckles. I broke the pattern by checking I had enough ammunition.

I understood one of the reasons Thruor hated guns. Swords don’t run out of ammunition.

Bows do, though. And Seb had brought one of those; a nasty looking crossbow. I hadn’t asked where he got it.

He was in the other car with Clara and the valkyrie. We were following them. I closed my eyes, not watching the city go by, not right now. I didn’t know that I wanted to know where we were.

Silver Spring. No, past Silver Spring into Tacoma. The other side of the tracks. Literally, in this case. They were slowing outside an old warehouse that was covered with vaguely obscene graffiti, even on the street side.

I wondered why nobody had cleaned it up. Then I knew we had to move.

I felt a sense of something coming to a head, of some danger growing.