Standing in the back of the crowded room, Cat pretended to sip her drink. Really, she was scanning the crowd. "I hope you're getting this," she murmured into the heavy cut-glass brandy snifter.
"I told you the last time you asked, we can see and hear everything." Jane's voice was so loud and clear, Cat glanced around in case the other detective had crashed the party. "We're feeding Frost the images, and he's running them against all known databases." Grudging admiration colored her next comment. "This stuff's amazing; undercover work would be a lot safer and simpler if Tara's crew was on-board all the time."
Cat had to agree. Other than a mild itch under her right eye - where Tara and a witch friend had painted some clear liquid - even Cat couldn't tell she was carrying an audio-visual recording device. Her musings stopped abruptly. People were streaming through the French doors at the far end of the room. It must be show time. Cat kept her glass; it provided excellent cover for talking to Jane. And it gave her something to do with her hands.
The presentation room had probably been a formal ballroom in another life. Dark, highly polished wood floors were encircled by carved and painted panels and intermittent mirrors. Instead of a string quartet playing music in one corner, though, a raised dais had been constructed. Folding chairs were scattered among the rest of the luxurious furnishings. They lined the dais and the entire ballroom floor. Cat chose one mid-way to the dais and right on the end. Not far enough away to draw attention, and easy enough to get out if she suddenly had to make a run for it.
Despite the large crowd, everyone found a seat quickly. Cat had sensed their overall boredom with the social hour not long after arriving. There was a strong undercurrent in the group. These people wanted action, not idle chatter. She noticed a preponderance of Red Cuffed submissives in the crowd. If Marie had been honest the night before, then everyone here had been handpicked. A homogeneous group who would share a single vision. Whatever that vision was.
"Thank you all for joining us tonight," a tall, distinguished man said into the microphone on the stage. "It is my pleasure to open my home for this workshop. The First Legion offers so many opportunities to all of us; giving back by hosting this event is an honor."
Cat had not seen the host before. She casually leaned to her left and asked the woman seated there, "This is my first time here. Who's the old guy?"
She got a crusty look in return. "Jason Anders." It was clear the woman thought Cat was an idiot for not recognizing someone so important.
Looking appropriately impressed, Cat whispered, "He looks shorter in person."
A half-second later, Jane's voice explained, "Anders is Old Money. His family controls a majority of the largest medical equipment supplier in North America."
Sometimes having voices in your head was useful. Settling in for the show, Cat automatically scanned the crowd again. Young professionals. All in the twenty-five to thirty-five year old range. While Cat mulled over that observation, Anders was waving at another man on the stage.
"…introduce Martin, our guest speaker this evening." Applause drowned out the rest of his comments, and Cat made sure to clap enthusiastically.
It took a few minutes of waving hands, bright smiles, and humble "thank yous" for Martin to settle everyone down. Once the room was silent and attentive, he clipped a wireless microphone to his shirt collar and stepped off the dais. "I see a lot of familiar faces here tonight. It's good to have you back. It means we've been doing something right; that our message is connecting with you. And I know that some of you are here for the first time. Welcome. Welcome to the First Legion. This is a fantastic organization. A group dedicated to helping each of you move on with your lives. Each of you here tonight has suffered a great loss. I know that deep inside is a gaping hole, a place where your loved ones used to be."
There were murmurs of agreement around the room. Even Cat nodded. Gaping hole was a mild description of what she had felt when Faith disappeared from her mind.
Pretty soon, Martin decided it was time for all of the new people to introduce themselves. Cat's nearly-soundless groan must have gotten picked up by the magical microphone. Jane and Tara chuckled in her ear.
He started three rows in front of Cat. One by one, Karen, George, Rachel, and John said hello and were warmly welcomed with a creepy, in-stereo "Welcome to the First Legion," chant. Cat's heart picked up speed. Martin was one row away. Damn it, she hated this kind of thing.
When Martin stopped by her chair and held out a hand, Cat seriously considered refusing. She would have, if only this wasn't a work assignment. Scowling fiercely, she stood up. "My name is Martin," he said, just like he had the last three hundred (that might have been an exaggeration) times.
"Cat," Cat responded tersely.
"Welcome to the First Legion, Cat." If Cat had been at a Greek play, the whole "chorus" would have been singing or wearing masks.
The second Martin stepped away, Cat dropped back into her seat. Her seatmate gave her a big smile. "I'm Sara."
For an instant, Cat nearly gave into temptation and welcomed Sara to the Legion. She resisted the impulse. "Hi. Nice to meet you," Cat said, and flashed her own smile. Starting an actual conversation was impossible, not with the Greek chorus still chiming in regularly. She contented herself with counting the number of new heads and taking a close look at each one so that Tara and Jane got them on film. Or whatever magical images were stored on.
When the big introduction was over, Martin wandered back to the dais. "As I said, it's good to see you all. Every day, the First Legion grows bigger. Stronger. One step closer to realizing our goals."
"Of what? World domination?" Jane griped in Cat's ear.
"I wanted to talk to you tonight about what it takes to move ahead. To let go of the past." Martin faced the crowd and peered at them all very seriously.
The crowd stirred, sitting collectively straighter in their seats.
Without missing a beat, Martin launched into a rousing speech, and the crowd responded. They shouted their agreement. Several people stood and began clapping every time Martin paused and asked, "Don't you want to be strong? Be free? Be a warrior for the First Legion?"
The growing energy of the people around her pulled at Cat. She focused on watching, on taking mental notes… Little by little, though, she began listening to Martin.
"You represent the youth and vitality of the First Legion. Each of you has survived the crucible, a test that has made you strong. It is that strength which will push our organization into prominence. You are the foot soldiers. The ones who will go out and bring our message to the world."
The crowd roared and came to its feet, sweeping Cat along.
"It's time to let your pain, your frustrations, your anger find an outlet. Use your anger. Channel it. Stop being afraid to demand what you want." Martin was shouting now, and the crowd shouted with him.
The atmosphere was intoxicating. Cat rode the high without really understanding what fed the frenzy.
"Let the First Legion give your passion and drive a direction!" Martin held his arms aloft and room shook from the explosion of sound as the crowd went wild. Men and women dressed all in black stepped from their positions along the walls. "Veterans, join your cohort commanders to report your successes since our last meeting."
People rushed in every direction. Cat watched them hurry toward the black-clad people. Some appeared eager. Others… Afraid? Cat focused on those. On the way, their "commanders" noticed their body language and responded with sharp gestures. The winners and losers in whatever game the Legion played.
Cat itched to ask questions. She fell in with Sara until the other woman noticed. "You're not in my cohort," she told Cat. "If you're new, you have to stay here. They'll assign you to a team. Don't worry. They'll tell you what to do." Lengthening her stride, she left Cat behind.
"Cat? What's going on?" Jane's voice was hard to hear over the noise of everyone moving.
Even if Cat could have answered, she wouldn't have known what to say. She hovered near the chairs as each cohort left the room. When the final group marched out, Cat sank into a deserted chair along with the other "newbies". All of them looked as shell-shocked as she felt.
Martin and the sole remaining man in black walked toward the group. "Please, come closer. This is your cohort. These are your brothers and sisters in arms."
Exchanging confused glances, Cat and her new friends filled in the chairs surrounding Martin and the other man. "Kindred, this is Brad. He will be your mentor, your first commander as you become warriors for the cause."
The evening had grown surreal. Brad probably spent every spare minute lifting weights, and there was a tattoo peeking from beneath the tightly stretched arm of his T-shirt. Cat didn't want to stare. She turned until she it would appear she watched the new group members; however, the magically-treated spot on her cheek faced Brad.
"Nice, Cat," Jane praised Cat. "Hang tight. I think you're about to finally get us some useful information."
Jane's words were prophetic. Brad took over from Martin. He left the friendly, welcoming speeches behind. Brad was all about finding out what drove each member of his team. He'd obviously been fed information from other workshops and group sessions, and he was a master at manipulation.
In minutes, he pushed Gary, another recruit, into attacking him. "You told your session leader you wanted to change, Gary. You agreed. You told him you didn't want your in-laws to have custody of your son. You were going to fight them. Take them to court." Cat didn't know Gary's story, but she could see him respond to Brad's taunts. "You're too much of a coward. You sat back and let them take your son! How is that change, Gary? Prove to me you belong here with us!"
Gary tried…and he failed. He rushed Brad with a hoarse cry.
Showing he'd had more than a little training, Brad stepped to the side. One foot shot out and hooked Gary's. In seconds, Gary was on the floor. Cat and two other member of the group jumped up, ready to come to Gary's defense.
Until Brad laughed and helped Gary to his feet. "There! That's what you've been missing. That fire. That courage." He clapped Gary the back and turned to Cat. "What about you? You burst into a group session uninvited. Your bondmate just left you. Abandoned you!"
Even though Cat was an experienced interrogator, Brad got under her skin. She fought the urge to take a swing at him. She throttled the rage and met his eyes.
"Everyone here has lost a bondmate," she said quietly. Her voice betrayed her. It trembled. Her fingers flexed.
Brad saw it all. "Maybe." His voice matched Cat's. Soft and reasonable. See, little fish? There's no hook here. A slight smile lightened his features, although his eyes were cold. "But that isn't all that happened to you, is it? There's something else. Something else drove you to that group session."
Oh, shit. Cat froze: thoughts, emotions, muscles. Brad had information on every member of her cohort. He'd talked to Thomas. And Alina. He knew about her bondmate showing up with a Domme. A Domme whose name she'd mentioned to Alina.
Cat was wired. Jane and Tara would hear everything.
"Shut up!" She surged forward, anticipating Brad's evasive maneuver. One of her hands snuck over his guard and punched into his throat. Luckily – for them both – Brad had deflected it enough that he only gagged and coughed rather than suffered a crushed larynx. "Shut the fuck up!"
Hands grabbed her arms and dragged her back. "Save it for the mission, little sister," Martin advised. "Brad isn't the cause of your pain. Hold on to that rage. Savor it."
Jerking away, Cat watched Brad incite the rest of the group. His work was easier after the show Gary and Cat had put on. People were on edge, afraid or embarrassed or angry before Brad got to them. Each new victory for Brad unsettled Cat even more.
She wanted to laugh the whole evening off. Stupid parlor tricks. Mob mentality was easy to create, but no one here would murder anyone. Right? With Brad stoking the emotional flames, Cat wasn't so sure. Each enraged shout. Each push and shove and wild punch. She felt her head pound, and her heart raced.
"You're ready, Kindred." Martin smoothly reinserted himself into the meeting. "Brad and your recruiters have created missions for each of you. Don't worry. We understand that you aren't veterans. This is a simple job. Enough to give you a taste of what taking control of your life can be like."
The whole group leaned in eagerly, and Martin met their enthusiasm with open arms. "You'll be contacted with the details by this time tomorrow. And when you return next week for our follow up session, you can report your successes to the cohort."
He stood. "Now, it is time to rejoin the rest of the cohorts. To close out the evening with a final word on commitment to the Legion and to change." The French doors sprung open and the veterans and their cohort commanders returned in regimented waves.
Cat ignored Martin's final speech. She stared blindly over the heads in front of her. She had to get it together. She wasn't a mark for Martin and Brad and the rest of the Legion. She was a cop.
When Martin dismissed them, Cat walked out of the house with her cohort. She patted Gary on the shoulder and managed to hold a conversation with Charlotte without remembering a word she uttered. On autopilot, she started her car when the valet delivered it and drove back toward the station house.
"Is the team meeting?" Cat asked Jane through the wire. Please no, she didn't say. Cat desperately wanted to go home and hide until her emotions were back to normal.
Jane must have heard her silent plea. "No. Go home. Tara's got the Council working on transcripting everything, and I got Cavanaugh to approve overtime for a couple more computer geeks to help Frost. We're all taking the rest of the night off. We'll meet in the conference room at eight unless there's a break in the case."
Cat's hands relaxed slightly on the wheel. "And the wire?"
"You don't want us to tape you snoring?" Jane asked. "Korsak would probably enjoy a glimpse of you naked in the mirror, too."
"Cat, we have all we need. If you have any questions or need to contact us, you'll need to use your cell. I'm deactivating the spell now," Tara interrupted Jane's teasing. And just like that, the itch on Cat's cheek disappeared.
Not trusting the feeling, Cat said, "Tara? Can you hear me?"
No one responded. Alone in the car, Cat stepped on the gas. Home beckoned.
Sleep eluded Cat. She turned onto her side and burrowed further under the covers. Handel's "Water Music" played softly on a loop. It was her go-to piece for relaxation only it wasn't working. Cat rolled onto her back. Stretched her hands over her head and concentrated on deep breathing.
Still not working. Her skin crawled. Her heart beat twice as fast as normal.
With a growl, she gave up. Leaving the bed behind, Cat donned a pair of bag gloves and pounded on the heavy bag in one corner of her apartment. She imagined Brad's face in the center of the target painted on the canvas surface. It felt good. Unfortunately, punching an imaginary Brad didn't help with the smoldering anger.
She needed something else. A distraction. And Cat knew the perfect place. She'd just have to be more careful this time. No whips or flogging. Nothing to give her away to Maura or Tara. Cat jumped into the shower and then dragged on a pair of leather pants and matching vest. Her jacket completed the outfit. Keys, wallet, cell phone. She was ready to go. Striding to the door, she wrenched it open and froze.
She'd promised she wouldn't do this.
It didn't matter. No one would know. Not this time. Cat stepped into the hall and closed the door. Instead of locking it, however, she reached desperately for her cell phone.
She'd promised.
Punching in the number for Dispatch, Cat asked to be relayed to Tara. After a few clicks, Cat heard a phone on the other end ring once…twice…
"Who is this?" Tara's voice was fogged with sleep.
"I…I…I'm sorry," Cat stammered. This had been a stupid idea. The club was there; it offered anonymous sex and scenes that had always worked in the past. "Never mind."
"Cat? What's wrong?" Tara demanded. She sounded wide awake now.
"I shouldn't have called. I'm fine." Cat started to end the call until Tara's made that impossible.
"Tell me what's wrong, Cat. Now!"
Fighting the command was futile. Cat leaned against her apartment door and mumbled, "I…you said…you said to let you know. I need to go out. I need…"
"Are you still at home?" Tara interrupted.
"Yes," Cat whispered.
"Leave the door unlocked, kneel, and wait for us. We're on our way." Tara hung up as if she knew Cat would do as she'd ordered.
Maybe Tara had known because Cat did exactly what Tara had told her. She reentered the apartment, closed the door, and knelt right there in the entryway.