explaining the error of her actions before seeing it was having as much effect as a literary criticism on an alligator.
The delighted grin still struggled beneath her more serious expression, and her next question only reinforced his assessment. 'What is the scariest thing you know, James?'
Sighing, he gave up trying to scold her. Then, after a little thought, queried the Bureau's databank. He sent the lights down again as a flat picture appeared on the wall screen. The scene was a little jumpy, and Leeth realized it must have been shot from something like a lapel camera.
'This footage is classified, you understand? It's what happened when seven highly trained men, including two very strong mages and a powerful shaman, attempted to arrest Melisande d'Artelle.'
At the hiss of her indrawn breath, he turned to her, pleased he didn't have to explain the identity of the former Enemy of Mankind. Indeed, Leeth's attention had locked on the woman with more focus than he'd ever seen from her. But was there something more, there?
Something about her expression disturbed him. An element of… satisfaction? Ownership ? Half his attention stayed on Leeth as the playback continued.
In a large office, with a view down onto the Empire State Building, a woman – Melisande d'Artelle – dressed in an elegantly-tailored cream suit and tasteful jade necklace, faced seven dangerous-looking men. All wore Interpol uniforms; all were heavily armed and armored.
Between the men and the woman, a huge simulacrum of an office copier-thing rolled ominously forward, buckling the ceiling as it came. But with a casual brushing motion of one of D'Artelle’s hands, the bizarrely-animated device collapsed, shattering into pieces that flew across the room and out of sight, with the sound of a metal river crashing into a bus shelter.
James paused the action. 'That was a very large office spirit she so casually dismissed. But watch.' Leeth didn't look at him; merely nodded as if she'd expected no less. After a moment, frowning, he continued the playback.
The wearer of the camera started to speak, over the sound of still-falling pieces of equipment. Strangely, everyone in the room was acting like nothing at all had just happened. 'Madam d'Artelle, I am placing you under arrest-'
Ignoring the speaker, d'Artelle simply looked at the two mages, who exploded back across the room in flames. The other men's guns jumped as if they were about to fire, then suddenly, amazingly, all relaxed back again into simple alertness. The shaman alone looked confused, shaking his head and seemingly trying to focus himself.
James glanced across at Leeth, who sat hunched forward now, her hands like claws, looking like she wanted to throw herself into the scene. Her lips moved, and his analysis software told him what she'd whispered: “She's tricking them.”
But despite feeling there was something more behind Leeth's intensity, he couldn't help but be sucked back to the horrible scene.
Although light from the two burning men reflected off the large picture windows, no one seemed to notice. The woman licked her lips and turned, smiling, to the shaman, while the speaker continued sternly on, apparently unaware of the deaths around him.
'-on the charges of treason, mass murder,-'
A strange light flared around the shaman before it collapsed inside him. An instant later, the man screamed as flesh flowed like syrup down his bones. Once more the weapons twitched, but again only for a moment.
James watched Leeth's lips move, and saw her nod.
'-illegal genetic experiments,-'
Another man silently fell to the floor. No one reacted, unless you counted the small smile that twitched at the corners of d'Artelle's mouth.
'-kidnaping,-'
An instantly-silenced scream sounded from the next man, as his shotgun flew from his hands. Limbs snapping tautly outward as if racked, his spine bent backwards, each jerking movement matched by
The delighted grin still struggled beneath her more serious expression, and her next question only reinforced his assessment. 'What is the scariest thing you know, James?'
Sighing, he gave up trying to scold her. Then, after a little thought, queried the Bureau's databank. He sent the lights down again as a flat picture appeared on the wall screen. The scene was a little jumpy, and Leeth realized it must have been shot from something like a lapel camera.
'This footage is classified, you understand? It's what happened when seven highly trained men, including two very strong mages and a powerful shaman, attempted to arrest Melisande d'Artelle.'
At the hiss of her indrawn breath, he turned to her, pleased he didn't have to explain the identity of the former Enemy of Mankind. Indeed, Leeth's attention had locked on the woman with more focus than he'd ever seen from her. But was there something more, there?
Something about her expression disturbed him. An element of… satisfaction? Ownership ? Half his attention stayed on Leeth as the playback continued.
In a large office, with a view down onto the Empire State Building, a woman – Melisande d'Artelle – dressed in an elegantly-tailored cream suit and tasteful jade necklace, faced seven dangerous-looking men. All wore Interpol uniforms; all were heavily armed and armored.
Between the men and the woman, a huge simulacrum of an office copier-thing rolled ominously forward, buckling the ceiling as it came. But with a casual brushing motion of one of D'Artelle’s hands, the bizarrely-animated device collapsed, shattering into pieces that flew across the room and out of sight, with the sound of a metal river crashing into a bus shelter.
James paused the action. 'That was a very large office spirit she so casually dismissed. But watch.' Leeth didn't look at him; merely nodded as if she'd expected no less. After a moment, frowning, he continued the playback.
The wearer of the camera started to speak, over the sound of still-falling pieces of equipment. Strangely, everyone in the room was acting like nothing at all had just happened. 'Madam d'Artelle, I am placing you under arrest-'
Ignoring the speaker, d'Artelle simply looked at the two mages, who exploded back across the room in flames. The other men's guns jumped as if they were about to fire, then suddenly, amazingly, all relaxed back again into simple alertness. The shaman alone looked confused, shaking his head and seemingly trying to focus himself.
James glanced across at Leeth, who sat hunched forward now, her hands like claws, looking like she wanted to throw herself into the scene. Her lips moved, and his analysis software told him what she'd whispered: “She's tricking them.”
But despite feeling there was something more behind Leeth's intensity, he couldn't help but be sucked back to the horrible scene.
Although light from the two burning men reflected off the large picture windows, no one seemed to notice. The woman licked her lips and turned, smiling, to the shaman, while the speaker continued sternly on, apparently unaware of the deaths around him.
'-on the charges of treason, mass murder,-'
A strange light flared around the shaman before it collapsed inside him. An instant later, the man screamed as flesh flowed like syrup down his bones. Once more the weapons twitched, but again only for a moment.
James watched Leeth's lips move, and saw her nod.
'-illegal genetic experiments,-'
Another man silently fell to the floor. No one reacted, unless you counted the small smile that twitched at the corners of d'Artelle's mouth.
'-kidnaping,-'
An instantly-silenced scream sounded from the next man, as his shotgun flew from his hands. Limbs snapping tautly outward as if racked, his spine bent backwards, each jerking movement matched by
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