Vicious Circle (The Salt Mine Book 11) by Joseph Browning & Suzi Yee

Author:Joseph Browning & Suzi Yee [Browning, Joseph]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Expeditious Retreat Press
Published: 2021-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Houghton Lake, Michigan, USA

9th of March, 3:10 p.m. (GMT-5)

Wilson changed his magazine to regular bullets as he came down the stairs. There was no point in using banishment bullets against the mantid hit squad; they were ultimately native to the mortal realm as they were originally extraterrestrial. A breeding population had taken up residence in the Magh Meall after several generations made it clear that the Earth was chockablock with hominids, which they regarded as uncouth hairless murder monkeys. There they became the favored hired help of the fae. They were their enforcement arm in the mortal realm, sent out to break knees and bash heads to ensure a desirable resolution in rare cases where fae magic was proving ineffectual.

As their name implied, mantid physiology resembled praying mantises, only human-sized. Their mouthparts allowed for verbal communication and the maneuverable spines at the end of their spiky forelegs allowed them relatively complex tool use. They were a predatory species that had become adept at magical camouflage during their stay in the Magh Meall, assuming the forms of other creatures via their glamours. Over the millennia of employment by the fae, mantids had developed an understanding of humans that eluded their employers, who were only interested in humans as slaves—the kernel of truth buried in so many fairytales of stealing children and tricking people into the middle lands and eventually Fae itself, from which they would never return.

The mantids’ only real weakness was their visual spectrum. It skewed strongly toward the ultraviolet, and when they pretended to be human, nearly all the detail they used to distinguish one mantid from the other was lost to the visual spectrum of humans. Consequently, while they appeared unique to each other, their glamours often looked identical to humans. It was one of the hallmark clues one was dealing with mantids. That was what tipped off Wilson immediately—it was highly unlikely a set of quadruplets entered government service, worked in the same unit, and wore the same clothes.

Wilson watched through the small curtained window as they approached. Once they reached the porch, he opened the front door with a wide smile, keeping his right hand inconspicuously close to his Glock. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. What can I do for you?” he asked with a folksy twang.

The mantids exchanged looks but didn’t speak. Instead, they communicated with each other through scent, something they did when they didn’t want to be overheard. Wilson could faintly pick up the odor of crushed ants, the only part of their olfactory communication that humans could perceive with their limited sense of smell.

The leader of the squad stepped forward and spoke. “Yes, good citizen, we are from the government. We are seeking Megan Jillian Anderson for an interview at the station,” it replied stiffly. They did a good impression of looking human, but they didn’t have the finer things down. Their speech and mannerisms were close but still off. It was like listening to a foreigner speak your native tongue—even when they got everything technically right, you could still tell they weren’t from around here.

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