Free Cease and Desist (The IMA Book 4) by Nenia Campbell

in the room settled on my solar plexus, wringing chagrin from me like drops of blood.
    With a heavy sigh, I opened the door to my room, breathing in the scent of the candles I'd purchased from a homeless man earlier that week. Michael hadn't been with me; if he had, he would have tried to dissuade me, convinced that it was a scam or a trap or both. But like the scent of the candles themselves, the man's smile had been so sweet.
    I could almost hear Michael's voice in my head. “Damn your bleeding heart,” he would say, in a voice that wasn't outright condemnatory, but not quite affectionate, either. “It's going to get you killed.”
    According to city zoning law this building was not slated for residential use, so none of us technically lived here. However, each of us had a private office, which we could use to sleep in when necessary.
    It often was.
    My work was demanding, and it was rare that I could finish everything in a single day. I was starting to look sickly from spending so much of my time in unnatural light. I considered it my penance. It was the least I could do.
    I kicked off my jeans and unbuttoned my blouse. Briefly, I considered folding them, but I tossed the rumpled clothes onto my desk chair with a shrug. My endless days in front of a computer monitor, in addition to changing the color of my complexion for the worse, had also caused me to gain back some of the weight I'd lost. I avoided eye contact with the mirror as I pulled an XXL shirt out of one of the desk drawers to sleep in.
    Sounds came from the hallway. I didn't look up as I entered my password. Probably Suraya, returning from her debriefing. What had they told her? Need-to-know information about the IMA? Sex tips?
    Sex tips. I wanted to shake myself. This wasn't Cosmo . Human lives were on the line.
    I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, staring at my meticulously ordered desktop.
    How long until she's thrown to the wolves?
    I didn't want to think about that, so, of course, it was all I could think about.
    There weren't any new emails in my message center. That was a good thing: around here, pretty much all news was bad news. It also meant I had no minor catastrophes to distract myself with.
    I dragged out my futon and made the bed with a few sheets from my supply closet. The mattress was not particularly comfortable, but my brain was so exhausted I was hoping that my body might be persuaded not to care.
    I waited.
    Thirty minutes passed.
    Then an hour.
    No luck.
    My eyes landed on the candles on my desk, and the inoffensive scent of vanilla bean reached me. My guilty conscience was manifesting itself.
    I padded over in bare feet and lit one of the votives as I said a quick prayer. For Suraya. For Michael. For me.
    God had been very quiet lately, but just in case he was listening, just in case he was there, I wanted to remind him about us. All of us. Because if we were going to succeed, we needed a spark of the divine.
    Merciful Father — protect us. Keep us from harm.
    Please.
    I wasn't sure what else to add, so I blew out the flame. Curls of smoke wrapped their grasping fingers around me, as though trying to draw out something vital. I sheared through them with a wave.
    Amen .
    Sometimes it was hard to believe in God when the world was filled with so much cruelty. They say the devil is everywhere, yes, but isn't also God? Goodness should not be so hard to find in a place ruled by one who is so benevolent. Either he's not as powerful as he's supposed to be, or he's not as good. Either way, it's depressing to think about, because religion used to be such a constant in my life, and now I often felt as though I had nowhere to turn.
    Religion had become habit, rather than devotion. Michael's jadedness was rubbing off on me.
    Or maybe , I thought, maybe it's all my own.
    I reached over to turn off the light — and saw a large, familiar figure looming through the gauzy ribbons of smoke that still lingered in the air.
    I sucked in a