didn’t give their lives for you to act like their sacrifice isn’t important.”
The man looked properly cowed, but Juliana wasn’t finished. “I didn’t bring you here to show you a wall full of names. I brought you here to show you this.” Stepping to the side she touched one of the blank marble tiles. A spot that had held her name once, even if it was only for a few brief hours.
“What’s special about that?” a girl in the front asked when Juliana didn’t continue.
She leaned against the wall and slid her hands into her pockets. “Absolutely nothing. Until the mage casts his spell to add the name of the next fallen agent. Every one of the hundreds of tiles in this room is identical until the name gets added.” She began walking around the perimeter of the room knowing their eyes would follow, that they would take in the myriad of empty tiles.
After giving that time to sink in, she turned to face them again. “If you head into this job with the intention of making a name for yourself, you will. Most likely here on these walls. The Agency doesn’t care about you, they care about the job that you do. If they have to put your name up on these tiles, you’ve failed them.” She gestured to either side. “They’re expecting you to fail. They’ve prepared for it. If you think they’re right, quit now. If you think having your name memorialized at Agency sites across the world is heroic, you’re wrong. It’s tragic.”
She looked at each of them in turn, wanting to make sure they’d gotten the message. Heroes died. Agents that went into the job without any illusions lived. And that was her job, to make sure they survived. She was pleased that more than a few continued to look around at the empty tiles. Some seemed to be trying to count them. “You’re dismissed,” she said in a soft voice and took the stairs two at a time to rejoin Jeremiah.
“You didn’t fail, Juliana,” he told her as soon as she reached his side.
Leaning against the rail, she remained silent. She’d failed during her last case in numerous ways, not the least of which was not realizing who the killer was all along. If she had, things might have been different. Her mate might not have almost killed himself because he thought she was gone. They’d given her the tile with her name on it when they’d replaced it with a blank one. Ben said it was a souvenir to remember she’d survived. She kept it wrapped in a cloth and hidden in a drawer. Occasionally she pulled it out and looked at it. For her it was a reminder not to fail.
“A little harsh, don’t you think?” Nathaniel asked as he joined them.
“How many do you think will leave?” she asked instead of responding.
“Five. Maybe six. Ben’s not going to be happy.”
“Yeah, well, Ben can kiss my ass. I’m more concerned with lives than his ego.” She rubbed a hand along the back of her neck.
“I just think you perhaps could have found a way to get the message across in some other way than telling them the Agency doesn’t care if they live or die.”
Jeremiah put a hand on the wolf’s shoulder. “I believe that was the message, my friend.”
The corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. At least someone in the room understood what she was trying to convey. “Meet me here tomorrow at six,” she told Nathaniel. She didn’t wait for a response before heading toward the parking lot and her motorcycle. There were things to do at home and she wasn’t looking forward to any of them.
***
“Where is it precisely you are going again?” Thomas asked from where he leaned against the doorframe.
“I told you, I don’t know exactly. Ben just told us to be there tomorrow morning. It’s some training thing the main office wants me and Nathaniel to help with.” Her heart twinged with the lie. She hated being untruthful to him but, in addition to her assignment being in the heart of one of the nation’s most notorious red light districts, Thomas’s