Darkest Misery by Tracey Martin Page B

with preds and the magi?”
    Tom ran his fingers through his blond hair. “If you’ll recall, you weren’t overly receptive to what I had to say prior to this. Just trying to get you to talk to me and read about the prophecy was, shall we say, an ordeal.”
    â€œYou could have started off your spiel with this information.” Not that it would have made a difference. Tom might be telling the truth. It was hard to know with him, but even so, the timing of this all felt extremely convenient.
    Either way, it was too late. I was convinced the only way I might be able to hold the meeting together was if I showed no glaring loyalties to any one side.
    â€œI doubt you’d have listened,” Tom said, and he was right. I was certain I wouldn’t have.
    â€œWhatever. I’m not wearing it. I’ll go get those glyphs finished, but we’re done discussing the uniform.”
    Scowling, Tom stepped aside so I could leave my cube. “Don’t count on it.”
    I wouldn’t, and it was just as well. The argument resumed a couple hours later when I met up with Ingrid, Tom and some other members of Le Confrérie .
    Ingrid got straight to business. “Agent Kassin informs me you do not wish to wear the uniform we brought you.”
    I scanned the room, expecting to see Grace sitting around the table, already in a uniform, but she wasn’t there. “No, and I explained why to Tom. Where’s Grace?”
    Ingrid rubbed lint off the reading glasses she wore around her neck. “After meeting her yesterday, we came to the assessment that she is better off not attending these meetings. Her time will be spent beginning her training. As for you, the uniform—”
    â€œIs a no. I explained why. You’re not marking me.”
    Ingrid and the others, whose names I’d mostly forgotten, exchanged glances. “It’s not a question of marking. It’s a question of demonstrating your authority, of making sure these other people listen to you.”
    â€œIf that’s all, give me some Gryphon-issued weapons. They’ll listen then.” I smiled, assuming I had them. Salamander fire-forged blades were expensive and not handed out lightly by the Gryphons. They required serious magical skills to produce. Preds wouldn’t make them for others because they were extremely deadly to preds, so that left the magically talented magi as the best source. All Gryphons on duty carried knives, but no way would the Gryphons rise to the bait.
    Or so I thought.
    â€œWell yes,” Ingrid said. “I thought it went without saying that you should be armed at all times.”
    â€œI…” I snapped my jaw shut. “Yeah, it makes sense.”
    â€œI see you already have a knife.”
    I patted the blade at my hip. Misery, as I’d named it, was one of my favorite possessions. “Yes, but I still don’t think I need a uniform.”
    â€œJessica has a jacket,” Tom said, sounding resigned. “She should wear that if nothing else.”
    Ingrid shrugged. “It’s a compromise then. Jessica, how much training do you have with firearms?”
    â€œUh, not much. Tom’s made sure I’ve gone to the shooting range recently, but I wouldn’t call myself proficient.”
    â€œThen you must continue to work on your skills. We have special bullets that are effective against preds.”
    I’d seen them before while snooping in Tom’s office. Bullets with casings made of the same salamander fire-forged metal as Gryphon blades were. They were even rarer than the blades. So rare that I didn’t realize such things existed until I’d found them.
    A pred could bleed out from a single nick of a salamander blade if they didn’t have access to magical healers. You didn’t need to be a good shot to kill one if you had bullets made of the same. It was efficient, and it made fighting preds—usually a dangerous