Available Darkness Season 2

settle in place. Six plainclothes were waiting inside the hotel — one in the lobby, and the rest scattered across the hotel’s dozen floors. Outside the hotel, three more Agency vans were on standby in case things turned ugly. John thought the number of agents was overkill, especially since he hoped not a single one would be needed.
    He wished he had come to the hotel alone, but knew if he did, and Mathews found out, he’d be risking treason. Omega had a specific set of rules, and they expected John to play by them, just like everyone else. If not, he risked Hope’s life. So, John played ball and hoped he could talk with Shadow one-on-one without the need for the macho Mathews calling in his men.
    Mathews’ eyes were eager, and did nothing to buoy John’s hope for a peaceful meeting.
    “You’re going to give me time to talk to him, right?” John asked. “Before calling in the dogs?”
    Mathews looked offended, “Of course. But you know as well as I do that Shadow is one slippery fuck, and the moment shit goes south, we’re going in.”
    John nodded. “Just checking that we’re on the same page. I’m sure we can turn Shadow into an asset if we leave him on the streets. But you have to trust me a bit on this one, Mike.”
    Mathews nodded. “I get it, John. You do your job, I’ll do mine.”
    John had a sick feeling he knew exactly what Mathews meant — he’d get what he could get from Shadow, then the squad would move in to try taking him into custody. Maybe even kill him.
    Shadow was one of the most well-respected Halfworlders — a son of an Otherworlder — someone who had gotten along well enough with both Guardians and Harbingers before Jacob activated the portal and brought civil war among the Guardians.
    Shadow had run a magick shop in the underground, catering to Otherworlders, Halfworlders and the few humans who knew how to find him, specializing in artifacts and information for collectors willing to recognize, and pay, for their value. When Omega started purging Otherworlders, Shadow went deeper underground. John thought he would have fled the area, but for some reason, he stayed. That meant he was either the smartest of Otherworlders, or the dumbest.
    Mathews checked with the other teams on the radio, making sure everyone was in place, then looked at John, “You ready?”
    “Yes,” John said, climbing from the van’s rear.
    John was wearing his street clothes; jeans, a black shirt, black trench coast, boots and shades. He checked the tiny receiver pinned inside his coat’s collar, and whispered, “You hear me?”
    “Yes,” Mathews’ voice came across the ear piece hidden beneath John’s long dark hair. “You copy?”
    “Yes,” John said, making his way inside the lobby. He crossed the empty hallway, then stepped inside the elevator and took it to the second floor. As the doors parted, John saw a man standing in front of a door halfway down the hall. John got out and started walking the hall, figuring Shadow’s room was roughly three doors down from where the man was standing.
    What the hell is he doing?
    As John got closer, he heard the man’s slurred speech, “Please, baby, let me in. I’m sorry.”
    Great, a lovers’ quarrel.
    As John approached, the man turned, red-eyed, and glared at John, looking him up and down. “What the fuck you lookin’ at?” the man asked.
    John looked down, ignoring the man. The last thing he wanted to do was alert Shadow by getting into a fight with a drunken man down the hall. John kept walking, head down, stopping in front of Shadow’s room. John could feel the drunk’s eyes all over him, waiting to see what John would do, as if trying to decide between picking a fight and resuming his plea, begging “baby” to let him back inside.
    Maybe he was waiting for John to leave before he finished humiliating himself.
    John planned to take his time, see if he could sense whether Shadow was awake, but given the drunk in the hall, he had to keep moving, as if it were his room. He retrieved a key card from his coat pocket, one Omega created to open any door in the hotel, and slid it into the door’s card reader.
    The door unlocked. John turned the knob and softly pushed.
    The door caught immediately on a latch, which John half-expected. He stepped back and kicked the door hard above the knob.
    The door burst open, snapping the lock as the drunk screamed, “Hey!”
    John stormed into Shadow’s room, hands ready to deliver a deadly blast of