Page 40 of Strange Lights

My heart thrums in my ears, nearly drowning out Calvin as he says, “Who? What do they do to the werewolves?”

“We aren’t entirely sure,” Gemma hedges.

“He deserves to know,” Wolff says.

“We aren’t entirely sure,” Gemma repeats, but with a resigned sigh continues. “We have some theories, though. And even more wild rumors. Mind control, turning them into mindless soldiers for a magical army. Maybe the Kingsleys’ wants are as simple as unchecked power.”

My palms are sweating, and I swallow hard to keep the waffles from reappearing.

“Who are the Kingsleys?” Calvin asks.

“They run Agency 51, specifically the matriarch, Adele Kingsley,” Wolff says. “To put it politely, she’s ruthless, cold-blooded, and morally corrupt. She’s got three daughters who work for her, and let’s just say the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. Reggie really hasn’t told you anything about the agency? The Kingsleys?”

“We’ve been busy,” I say. “On the run, aliens in the sky, chasing after vacuums, my daughter being kidnapped. I told him enough to keep him safe. I told him they’d be hunting him, but we haven’t had time to get into the deeper politics of it.”

“I’m pointing out he’s a target as a werewolf,” Wolff says. “You should have warned him.”

Gemma unintentionally shuts down the argument when she turns her laptop to show us a photo⁠—high resolution but clearly not a posed photograph, taken from a great distance. “Adele Kingsley. Keep in mind she goes to great lengths to obscure her identity,” Gemma says. “This is the best picture we could get. She wears a mask most of the time.”

A woman behind a glass panel, a window maybe, distorted by light shining through. In her late sixties, silver hair cut into a neat chin-length bob. Wide, hooded eyes against pale skin, too obscured to make out color. Her jaw is sharp and set firmly. I can’t stop the shiver that runs down my spine. There’s nothing special about her, nothing in her face that stands out sharply from a crowd. The blurry headshot could be of your kid’s middle school teacher, the CEO of your company, the author photo on the back of your favorite thriller.

“Unlimited funds to play with,” Gemma continues. “Her net worth is in the billions. She was born into wealth and power. Rumor is she spent her time experimenting with dark and dangerous magic even when she was young. No moral hard line. She’s smart, too, great at manipulating people. I wouldn’t be shocked if you told me she does have mind control powers or some invention to twist people to her will. She’s an effective leader, but her method is fear, not respect. Maybe keep that in mind regarding the loyalty of her followers.”

“Her background is a mystery,” Wolff says. “But we’ve had people looking into it, trying to find a weakness. She doesn’t seem to have much family. Her father died some forty years ago, and she had her own mother committed shortly after, claiming she was mentally unstable. The mother passed away a few years later, leaving Adele alone.”

A thrill runs through me. This information is new. Alone, alone, chimes that little voice in my head.

“Why did she have her mother committed?” I ask.

“Her mother started claiming Adele wasn’t her daughter after Adele disappeared for a few years,” Wolff says. “Allegedly, Adele went missing while performing some magical experiment. Her mother claimed she came back as ‘something else’ when Adele reappeared, talked about changelings and doppelgängers, insisted Adele wasn’t Adele anymore. Adele was definitely her daughter, though. There are DNA test records to prove it.”

This kind of conspiracy is Wolff’s bread and butter, and I don’t know how seriously to take him.

Something else. Came back. I’m trying to make it all make sense, but I file it away, hush that inner voice, concentrating on the present conversation.

“The daughters are harder to track down,” Gemma says. “I don’t have photos or names for any of them, except for the youngest, Meredith.”

Gemma shows us a silent, looping video clip of Meredith Kingsley. A young teenager flips us off, mouthing curse words that would make Eldi proud. Teenage defiance blazing in bright green eyes, long red hair a wild mess that obscures part of her face. Taken on what must be a hidden camera given the way the camera shakes. Judging by the girl’s demeanor, she doesn’t realize she’s being filmed.

“She’s Mom’s favorite. Adele rarely lets her out of her sight, grooming her replacement from the look of it. But it’s the eldest sister you really have to watch out for,” Wolff says.

“The eldest sister?” Calvin asks.

“Your biggest threat, if you ask me. She started up the werewolf project,” Wolff says.

I feel sick as I watch Calvin take in all the information I didn’t want to tell him. All the things he should have heard from me. “Everyone I know at Agency 51 is terrified of her, and none of them have even seen her face because she wears that creepy mask. And she has her weapon, uses it for torture and intimidation. The eldest might be worse than Adele.”

“Really? Worse than Adele?” I say. “Consider her worst offenses were on Adele’s orders. Those three sisters were raised by a monster. She would punish them for any hint of disloyalty to her. Do you have any idea of the kinds of things Adele does? The control she wields? Official Agency 51 business aside, there’re her ‘experiments’ with magic nobody has any business attempting, the mind games just for fun. . . .”

I’m still thinking hard, speaking without thinking, when I realize they’re all staring at me.

“And how is it, exactly, that you would know?” Calvin asks cooly.

That’s what I get for letting my guard down. I know I can’t hide this truth from them any longer. None of them are stupid; they’ve all had their suspicions about me, and I’ve slipped up too many times.

“I was an Agency 51 agent. I worked for the Kingsleys.”

The silence at my confession is worse than the yelling I expected. I chance a look at Calvin, his jaw clenching as he tries to find something to say. I look away.