Solomon's Sieve by Victoria Danann Page B

bottle of Scotch, vowing to rise the next morning, reborn, and ready to conquer Life: Part Deux.
    At exactly ten o’clock Glen came to stand in the open doorway on the threshold of the Sovereign’s office and waited for an invitation to enter.
    Rev looked up and motioned him in. “Sir Catch?”
    “Good morning, Sovereign,” Catch said with a grin as he stepped into Rev’s new office.
    “I would return your greeting in kind, but can’t because I can see into the future.”
    Glen looked intrigued. “You’re clairvoyant, sir?”
    “Not at all, but I can still predict that you won’t be looking quite so cheerful fifteen minutes from now.”
    “Uh oh. First day on the job and you’re already busting as…, um, enforcing the discipline that’s been lacking since the former Sovereign passed away.”
    Rev gave him the toothy grin his shit-eating comment deserved. “Sit. We put out the smokes last night.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I see that one of Z Team retired.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “And that you’re throwing in with them?”
    “That’s right.”
    Rev nodded and looked decidedly unhappy about that. “I see. Well, let me say this then. I haven’t known you long and I don’t know you well, but you seem like a nice sort. A nice sort with an outstanding and impeccable record. You would have to be remarkable to keep this place running. So I’m compelled to ask.
    “Are. You. Sure?”
    Glen smiled. “I see their reputation has made it south of the Equator.”
    “Oh, yes. They’re infamous enough. I doubt there’s anyone connected with Black Swan in any capacity who hasn’t heard some Z story at some time or other.”
    Glen laughed. “Yes. And maybe some of it is even true!” Rev’s scowl brought Glen’s levity to a full stop. “I appreciate your concern, sir, but I expect I’ll be able to…”
    When Rev’s mind unexpectedly flashed on a memory of an encounter with Z Team, he gasped from the assault of bright, vivid images and feelings of both excitement and anxiety. The memory came through crystal clear, complete with sounds, voices, and music. That would have been fine if he had always been Rev Farthing, but the memory he was witnessing – in his own head – was a recreation of somebody else’s experience.
    After a couple of seconds he realized that it was probably an episode of the memory cross-over phenomenon that Kellareal had warned him about.
    Glen had come around the desk and was standing over him looking concerned. “What’s wrong? You need medical?”
    Rev swallowed and pushed the visions aside. “No. Of course not. An old injury. I just turned the wrong way and pinched a nerve. First time that’s happened in years.”
    “You sure?”
    Rev pointed to the chair. “Sit down over there and let’s finish this talk.” Glen hesitated, but did as he was told. “So you have the crazy idea that you’re going to rehabilitate that gang of miscreants?”
    Glen smirked. “Why don’t you just tell me how you really feel about them?”
    “Just did.”
    “Maybe I’ll learn something from them. Maybe they’ll learn something from me. Maybe everybody benefits, The Order most of all. At least that’s the plan.”
    “Well said, Sir Catch. You’re a big boy, but you’re a green knight. Being able to count on your team in the field is everything. Do you think these men are worthy of that trust?”
    Glen had learned a lot about maturity while playing the role of Sovereign. Not wanting to rush into an answer without giving it due consideration, he took a moment and mulled the prospect over in his mind. “I appreciate your concern, Sovereign. I really do. As to the issue of trust, I honestly don’t know, but if that’s truly at question, they should be relieved of hunter duties.”
    Rev sighed and reached for his coffee cup. The kid was right. Their antics always seemed to stop just short of the discharge line.
    “Next order of business. The vampire virus has mutated. Not only is it no longer