"S.H.I.E.L.D. is the line of defense between ordinary people and the things they don’t know are out there. We stand on the front line to..."
Evenson stopped.
His expression remained perfectly serious, but his words had run out.
He turned his head toward Claire, who had followed them because she was worried, and gave her a silent plea for help.
Claire merely shrugged and spread her hands.
No chance.
She had been standing behind Evenson the entire time. She’d seen exactly what he’d done during the handshake, so she already understood that his interest in Nadia was genuine.
Just not that kind of interest.
Evenson cleared his throat.
"Basically, we’re here to keep the public from learning more than they need to know so they can continue living normal lives. That’s the general idea."
He gave a helpless shrug.
Melinda covered her face with one hand.
She had explained S.H.I.E.L.D.’s mission to him just two days ago. He’d been the one asking about it, too.
And now he could only remember the broad strokes?
Nadia nodded slowly.
"I see."
S.H.I.E.L.D. had certainly been making headlines lately. Not long ago, they’d assembled a team of Earth’s heavy hitters and sent an alien invasion packing.
If an organization like that was now preparing to deal with Hell trying to establish a foothold on Earth, it made sense.
But Nadia still wasn’t satisfied.
"So what exactly are you going to do? What happens to Danny afterward?"
Being famous didn’t necessarily mean being trusted.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was still an intelligence organization, and organizations like that were built to eliminate threats.
It didn’t matter whether the threat was a murderous criminal or an innocent child who happened to possess dangerous abilities.
"Our ultimate objective is to send Blackheart back to Hell," Evenson answered honestly.
"And Danny?"
Nadia pressed the question again.
That was understandable.
For a mother, nothing mattered more than what happened to her child.
She hadn’t even finished the question when Evenson raised a hand.
"Hold that thought."
He stepped away and pulled out his phone.
"Yeah? What’s up?"
He listened.
"Really?"
The call was from Rumlow.
"Sir, we just picked up a call from Carrigan. The person he was speaking with is almost certainly our target."
"Did you trace the signal?"
There was a pause on the other end.
"Yes, but we couldn’t get a location."
Evenson’s brow furrowed.
"What?"
There was a trace of irritation in his voice.
S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn’t even locate a phone signal now?
"The other party used some kind of signal-obscuring method," Rumlow explained carefully. "We’ve never encountered anything like it before. My guess is..."
He hesitated.
"Magic."
"Why do you think it’s magic?"
Evenson could understand Blackheart taking precautions to conceal his phone signal. Considering what the demon was doing, basic counter-surveillance would be sensible.
But why had Rumlow jumped straight to magic?
"The technician monitoring the call..."
Rumlow glanced sideways.
A corpse lay nearby, eyes still open.
"...is dead."
Evenson went quiet for a moment.
"The surveillance equipment should have recorded the conversation. Did you listen to it?"
"No."
Rumlow’s answer came immediately.
They’d already lost one person simply by listening in.
Nobody was volunteering to become the second.
"Send the recording to my phone," Evenson ordered. "I’ll see what Blackheart was actually saying."
He wanted to know whether Blackheart had detected the surveillance and deliberately killed the person listening in, or whether something else had happened.
"Yes, sir."
Rumlow immediately converted the recording into an electronic file and sent it over.
Evenson played it.
Sure enough, the man speaking with Carrigan was Blackheart.
At first, the conversation was completely ordinary.
Carrigan spent most of it complaining about how dangerous the job was, then proceeded to demonstrate why he’d earned such a terrible reputation as a mercenary by demanding more money.
Evenson almost laughed.
People had tried to bargain with demons before.
But signing a contract with one and then trying to renegotiate halfway through?
That took a special kind of stupidity.
Carrigan wasn’t going to have a happy ending.
Even if he somehow completed the job, there was no reason to believe he’d receive his promised payment.
His life and his soul were both already on the table.
Then Carrigan said something that made Evenson’s mouth twitch.
"Last night, I ran into this absolute beast of a woman who could throw rocks like grenades..."
Evenson’s eyes slid toward Melinda.
He decided it was probably better if she never heard that part.
Carrigan continued.
"And then there was this flaming skeleton who could burn a man down to a damn matchstick."
"What?"
Blackheart’s tone changed instantly.
He knew exactly what Carrigan was talking about.
"Put the boy on the phone."
Carrigan obeyed.
"Danny, listen carefully..."
What followed was a long stretch of incomprehensible speech.
The pronunciation and grammatical structure sounded vaguely Latin, but there was something profoundly unnatural about it.
Evenson’s brow furrowed.
Demonic incantation.
So the old bastard hadn’t deliberately killed the S.H.I.E.L.D. technician.
He’d simply been using the incantation on Danny.
The poor man had just been caught in the crossfire.
Talk about terrible luck.
Evenson ended the recording and shook his head.
It reminded him of watching a high-level warlock cast a soul spell without bothering to conceal it, only for some ordinary person to walk right up and decide they wanted a closer look.
As for what the incantation had actually done...
Evenson glanced at Melinda.
She immediately understood.
Then she kicked Johnny in the head.
Thud.
"I meant wake him up."
Evenson stared at her.
He sounded almost offended.
"Never mind. I’ll do it myself."
He stepped closer and released a subtle burst of psychic force.
Johnny slowly regained consciousness.
His eyes opened.
He stared blankly at Melinda for a moment.
Then the memories came rushing back.
Right.
This was the woman who had beaten the hell out of him.
Fair enough.
He had transformed, lost his temper, and caused no end of trouble.
Still...
Women in this world were getting more terrifying by the day.
Evenson ignored his confusion.
"Can you still sense the boy?"
Johnny froze.
His expression immediately darkened.
He concentrated.
Nothing.
He shook his head.
"No. I can’t feel him anymore."
Nadia’s face went white.
"Does that mean..."
"He’s not dead."
Evenson cut her off before panic could take over.
He knew exactly what she was afraid of.
"Blackheart wouldn’t kill his little prize this early. He’s still useful to him."
Evenson considered the situation.
"He’s been hidden. His presence has been obscured."
Nadia looked desperate.
"Then what do we do?"
"It’s not a major problem."
Evenson turned toward her.
"This useless Rider can’t find him anymore, but S.H.I.E.L.D. can."
He gestured toward the exit.
"Come with us."
Nadia hesitated.
"You still haven’t answered my question."
Her voice steadied.
"What happens to Danny afterward?"
Evenson sighed.
"Look, your son isn’t the only unusual person in the world."
His patience was beginning to wear thin.
"As long as people like him don’t cause trouble, S.H.I.E.L.D. generally leaves them alone beyond routine checks. We don’t interfere with their lives."
He paused.
"And we don’t hand out living expenses, either."
Nadia blinked.
Evenson’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"So your son isn’t going to start causing problems, right?"
"Of course not."
Nadia nodded rapidly.
"Danny would never do that. I promise."
"Good."
Evenson smiled.
"But if you want S.H.I.E.L.D. to feel comfortable, I’d recommend that once this is over, you..."
He paused.
"...you move to New York."
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