Shuffling some papers, Bel glanced across his desk at Gil. For his part, Gil stood feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind his back, eyes focused on a spot above Bel’s head. Bel had waited for his subordinate to start talking for almost five minutes. By now he could tell that particular trick wouldn’t work on Gil. Accordingly, he switched tactics.

“What am I going to do with you, Mr. Head?”

“I’m sure I’m not sure, sir.”

“We’re not a military unit, Mr. Head. It’s Mr. Stewart in front of the students. Normally I’d say it’s Bel in private, but I’m not sure you’ll be staying long enough to get both habits down.”

“If that’s what you think best, Mr. Stewart.”

Bel shook his head. Some of his best subordinates started out this way. Roberts started like this. Unfortunately, some of them never got past the tight-lipped, never volunteer attitude. If things hadn’t been so crazy, he’d be inclined to spend some time getting Head to open himself up. Unfortunately, time was one thing he wasn’t sure he had.

“Let me make myself clear, Mr. Head. I would like to keep you on the team, but you have given me precious little reason to. You come highly recommended, but you failed to keep Ms. Lake out of the line of fire, even though she started out within feet of you.

“Care to explain how that happened?”

“I’m not really sure myself, Mr. Stewart. I took down the local threat, then told Ms. Lake to head for safety. My plan was to examine the remains of the intruder and follow her to the motor pool. At that point, she called out that she was heading to the garage to equip, not to seek shelter. I…

“Honestly, Mr. Stewart, I was so surprised that I lost a few moments before her words registered, then wasted a few more calling out to her, telling her to stay in the garage. By the time I realized she wasn’t going to, she had a head start on me. I tried to chase her down, but she managed to stay ahead of me.”

“She outran you.”

Gil had the grace to look sheepish. “Yes, sir.”

“Son, I’ve seen her try to sprint. You’re telling me you’re slower than that?”

“I’m afraid so, sir. I can do distance runs, but I’m not a sprinter.”

“How did you ever manage entry teams?”

“That’s not really a sprint, sir. It’s more of a jump.”

Bel frowned at Gil, and Gil closed his mouth with a snap.

“Based on what you’re telling me, other than getting caught up with the ID, you did everything we could ask of you. Unfortunately, a student was injured, and when that happens, Ms. Williams wants heads to roll. Yours looks like the head on the block.”

“I… I understand sir.”

“I can’t give you the recommendation you…”

The door to Bel’s office burst open. The doorway framed a scene that made Bel’s lips twitch even given the gravity of the situation. Roberts stood with his back to the doorway, obviously trying to block Lane from entering or even seeing into the office. Unfortunately, the top of his head wasn’t quite high enough. He wasn’t used to dealing with people who could pick him up and set him gently out of the way. The added difficulty of not being able to come into deliberate contact with a student made that even more difficult.

“Mr. Stewart! Please don’t fire Mr. Head!”

Bel turned his glare from Head to Lane. Proving she wasn’t completely ignorant of social convention, she blushed and shrank into herself a little. She didn’t, however, drop her gaze.

“Young lady, I am unaccustomed to being told what to do in my own office.”

“I said please.”

“You were also being very demanding. You also burst into my office despite Mr. Roberts’ obvious attempt to prevent you from doing so. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t suspend you.”

“I can’t. I just don’t want you to fire the guy who saved my life.”

Bel pointedly eyed the bandages on Lane’s arms and legs.

“Saved it? I’m not sure how he did that.”

“He told me to go get my gear.”

“He said ‘go get your gear’?”

“Uh, no?”

“What did he tell you?”

“To get to the garage.”

“And did you stop to think that he might have wanted you to be safe? That he wanted you out of harm’s way?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Uh, no?”

“I didn’t think so. Now, what am I going to do with you?”

Bel stopped, visibly musing on Lane’s punishment. Unseen by either Lane or Gil, Harold signaled him frantically. After a few moments, he shook his head in carefully mimed disgust at the whole situation.

“Both of you, get out. Wait in Mr. Roberts’ office.”

“Yes, sir,” the student and the security guard chorused in unison. When both of them left the room and the soundproof door swung closed, Bel relaxed and gave Harold an inquisitive look.

Roberts immediately sat down opposite Bel and blurted out, “It’s not going to work.”

“I trust your judgment, but what the hell are you talking about?”

“I saw her on the field, Bel. She’s got good instincts. Better than mine. She’s not going to run and hide.”

“Sometimes it’s the right thing to do.”

“How often do you do it from instinct, and how often from training?”

“Point taken. You wouldn’t have interrupted me if you didn’t have a better idea.”

Harold frowned. “Head is expendable?”

“I don’t think of anyone as ‘expendable’, Harold. You know that. But if it gets down to brass tacks, I’d rather lose him than any of the long-term staff.”

“Sic him on her.”

“How is that going to help?”

“You just said it, Bel. Discretion is something both of us learned, not something we do by nature. Someone needs to teach her that.”

Bel grimaced, “But Head? That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Did you see the way she looks at him?”

“That’s why it’ll work.”

Bel opened his mouth to speak, but the lopsided grin on Roberts’ face gave him pause. After thinking for a bit, he nodded.

“It’s got problems, but I can’t think of anything better. Send Head in. Keep Lake out until I call for her.”

A few moments later, Gil marched back into the classroom. Bel hid a grin at how obviously Gil stopped himself from saluting. Instead, he glared his best frustrated vengeance glare.

“OK, Head. You’ve got exactly one more chance. If you screw it up, and I mean in any way, you’re done. No recommendation, no job. Got it?”

“Sir! What do I need to do?”

“Lake is going to be your own special problem from now on. If she gets herself injured again, it’s on you.”

Bel had the satisfaction of seeing Gil’s face go an interesting shade of puce. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. As words began to form, Bel cut him off.

“She seems to like you. Use that if you have to. Understand something, though.” Here, Bel beckoned the other man closer. When Head came within arm’s reach, Bel reached out lightning quick, grabbing Gil’s tie and pulling him down until the men faced each other, inches apart. “If anything happens, you will wish you were unemployed with no prospects. I have a cabin up in the Northwest Territories, more vacation time than I know what to do with, and a number of questionable interrogation skills I haven’t had need to use in years. Are we clear?”

Gil’s eyes had grown wider and wider as Bel was talking. Now, he nodded once, sharply, before replying.

“Yes, sir!”

Bel released his grip on Gil’s tie. As Gil stood up, Bel pressed the speed dial on his phone.

“Mr. Roberts? Could you send Ms. Lake in, please?”

A moment later, Lane slouched into the room, her attitude somewhere between chastised and defiant. Bel stared and let the silence work at her. After a minute, defiance won out, and she lifted her eyes to meet his. She opened her mouth to say something, and he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“Thanks to you, Mr. Head was nearly fired. Thanks to you, we nearly had to shut down the auto shop program. Thanks to you, we nearly lost a student. Do you understand the gravity of your situation?”

Chastised had overtaken defiant completely. Lane looked ludicrous standing there as if she was about to cry, but Bel had to be sure she understood. Again, nearly a minute passed before Lane spoke. This time it was a quiet whisper that escaped her.

“Yes, Mr. Stewart.”

“Good.” A few more moments of glowering, and he allowed his face to soften slightly. “I understand your intentions were good, Lane. If I thought otherwise, you would be home explaining to your mother why she needed to find a new school for you.”

Lane looked up, panic in her eyes.

“You’re not being expelled, Lane. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep you from jumping in by talking to you, and I can’t exactly tie you to your desk.”

Bel waited again until Lane couldn’t contain her fidgeting. This time he didn’t wait for her to be ready to speak, if he did, she wouldn’t be able to hold it in.

“Mr. Head is going to begin teaching you one on one. He’s going to make sure you know how to keep yourself in one piece if any of these things show up again. More importantly, he’s going to teach you when your help might be useful and when you need to get under cover and stay there. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Stewart.”

Bel waved the two of them out of his office. He waited again until the door closed firmly. After he heard it latch, his head sank into his hands, and he wondered what he had gotten himself into. He figured putting the fear of God into Head would keep things copacetic. The look on Lane’s face when he’d made his intentions clear disabused him of that.

He needed an antacid, or a drink, or both.

***

“I didn’t authorize the raid.” Morgan knew her tone would offend Aeric. She intended it to.

“You were obviously having trouble with the mortals. I was simply showing you how to handle them.”

“You certainly did so, didn’t you?”

Aeric raised his hand to her. The moment he did, incantations she’d placed when the pact was formed activated. Masked by the glow of his hand, they hovered in the air between the Sidhe warlord and Morgan’s physical form. When the power of his beam struck, they flared to life, latching onto his power like leeches.

When he realized what was happening, he tried to pull his hand away. His whole body spasmed as the leeches locked him in place and kept his power flowing. Morgan watched with a bemused smile as he brought his other hand up, banishing his shield as he did so. Another beam of power blasted from his off hand. It arrowed with the precision of a marksman at her eyes, but another of her runes flared up, catching the beam as the first had been caught.

The Sidhe’s power kept flowing from him into her runes. With every second, the runes glowed brighter and Aeric sagged further toward the ground. His legs gave out and he sank to his knees. When he did, Morgan raised her hand. Ignoring Aeric’s flinch, she quieted her runes, slowing the drain to a trickle. That done, she strolled over to where the Sidhe knelt.

“You never understood, did you Aeric?”

“Understood what?”

“When we came to you, offering you power in exchange for alliance, you thought you were gaining slaves by taking in refugees.”

Morgan knelt down until her eyes were inches from Aeric’s. He stared death at her, but could barely keep his chest rising and falling. Her grin disappeared, and the ancient Sidhe knew fear.

“We are invaders, Aeric. We were looking for a local dupe. In you we found the perfect combination of greed, position, and incompetence. And now…”

She reached a hand behind his neck, her touch a light mockery of a caress. When she brushed her fingers across him, tracing the pattern of her runes, he stiffened, but did not flinch. A moment later, the look of exhaustion faded from him. Deep in his eyes, however, lurked the knowledge of his defeat and enslavement.

“Remember, Sidhe. You are mine now. Disobey, and I will give what remains of you to someone more amenable.”