Magic Tides (Kate Daniels: Wilmington Years #1)(11)

“I know you’re worried about your family,” I said. “My husband knows me. He would’ve anticipated what happened and made sure that your and Paul’s loved ones are safe. By now they’re probably all at the fort.”

“The fort that will be attacked?”

“It’s the safest place for them. Trust me on this. I need your help finding the Order and then the People, because you know the city better than I do. If you can get me to the Farm, I’ll take it from there, and you can join your family.”

“Okay,” Thomas said.





3


“…M y second brother, Kody, but we call him Copper, because his hair is red, but Mommy says that all of her brothers had red hair, but it turned blond when they got to be grownups, so Copper is going to be blond for sure…”

The little girl’s name was Nika.

“…And my oldest brother, Rylee, has a German Shepherd puppy, and the puppy is named Kenobi, and his paws are this big, and he’s going to be a big dog for sure…”

There’d been no warning. We’d been walking for about 10 minutes when Nika took a deep breath and suddenly all the words came out. She hadn’t stopped talking for the better part of the hour. Something must’ve convinced her that we were okay, and she was safe, and all the fear and anxiety she’d held in since the Red Horn snatched her off the street was pouring out of her like a geyser.

“…And Kenobi will be a good protecting dog, because Kenobi is a Jedi name...”

They had played the whole series in a drive-in theater during a tech wave, and Nika’s family went to see it. We’d gone to see it too, although their sword fighting made me squeeze my eyes shut a few times.

“For sure?” I asked.

“For sure for sure.”

Once she started talking, the other kids had thawed little by little and were now listening.

“I have a dog,” the oldest boy said. His name was Caiden and he’d insisted that he knew how to ride so Thomas let him have the reins. I kept an eye on him to make sure I had time to lunge for the horse if it got spooked.

“What’s your dog’s name?” I asked.

“Yeti.”

“What kind of dog is he?” Nika asked.

“He’s big and white and he has lots of fur…”

The Wilmington chapter of the Order occupied a historic firehouse on the corner of Castle and 5th Avenue, downtown. A handsome two-story brick building, it had a tomato-red door, white trim, and four-story bell tower. Over the years, the bell had gone from useful to decorative and back to useful again. In an age where a magic wave could take out phones any second, the ability to sound the alarm without electricity was priceless.

The knights had made a few modifications, including grates on the huge downstairs windows. The pale metal bars fluoresced slightly if you squinted at them just right. Steel core plated with a thick layer of silver. Nice.

“…And Copper said that he should have a puppy too, and Daddy said…”

Thomas and I took the children off the horses.

Going to the Order hadn’t been the plan, but I had four severely traumatized children on my hands. Get in, get out, don’t mouth off, don’t lose your temper. Low profile. I knocked on the door.

“Come in!” a female voice called.

We did.

The inside of the former firehouse was clean and bright. A single room took up most of the downstairs. The walls were brick, the floor concrete sealed with white. Three desks waited, two in a row on the left, and one on the right. Bookshelves lined the walls, some holding books, the others offering a variety of ingredients, and on the left a metal rack held assorted weapons. There would be more in the armory, somewhere deeper in the building.

The two desks on the left stood empty. A woman in her fifties sat at the one on the right. She looked strong, not just muscular but solid, with a round face, sharp dark eyes, russet-brown skin, and black, curly hair, cut short and streaked lightly with gray. Claudia Ozburn, Knight-Protector and the head of this Order chapter. Curran and I had done a basic background check on who was who in Wilmington, so I knew her by reputation. She was dangerous, smart, and had, reportedly, very little tolerance for nonsense.

Claudia looked at the children, then back at me and raised her eyebrows. The kids went silent.

“We found some missing children,” I told her. “I’d like to petition the Order to return them to their parents.”

“Where did you find them?”

“In the Red Horn’s human kennel.”

Claudia’s expression didn’t change. She reached into the desk drawer on her right, took out a piece of paper, and pushed it across the desk to me. “Fill this out.”

Form J-7, unaccompanied minor. In my brief stint with the Order, I had processed so many of those, I could do them in my sleep.

Claudia turned to the children. “You are now under protection of the Order of Merciful Aid. You are safe. We will take good care of you and make every effort to get you back to your parents.”

I went through the form, ticking the right boxes on autopilot, put “Kate” in the contact field with my phone number, listed the children’s names and descriptions, signed, dated, and slid the form back to her. I could’ve had Thomas do it, but it would’ve taken a lot longer. Thomas didn’t look like the type to bust down gang doors. She would’ve kept him for questioning. This was faster.