by Amir Lane
“Did you ever want to be something other than a criminal?” she snapped.
I had that coming.
“Lawyer, actually,” I said quietly.
The officer raised an eyebrow at me. She must have been thinking of the irony. I wondered what she would have thought if she’d known I was a cop.
“I’m saving to go back to school,” she grunted. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
She punctuated the word ‘your’ with a shove toward an empty chair. I fell into it and tipped my head up to the glass pane. My heart leapt into my throat and relief flooded my chest. I didn’t even care that it was one of the last people I’d expected. I scrambled for the plastic phone.
“Ciao, bella,” Angelo drawled.
He didn’t look exactly the way he had last time I’d seen him. He’d gained some weight, and it made him look healthier. There was a shine in his eyes, and a broad grin on his lips. A brown scarf looped twice hid the compass brand on the side of his neck.
“You’re alive!”
And he did look like a lawyer, in a well-fitting dove-grey suit. We’d only known each other for a single day. I didn’t know nearly enough about him to trust him as much as I did. I might have given my instincts too much credit, but they hadn’t let me down so far. Angelo had been the one to help me kill Bromley, even if it was for his own gain. He didn’t have to be here, either.
Which made me wonder why he was here. I was almost too relieved to see him to care. Finally, I felt like I had a friend in this place, even if there was a pane of glass separating us. Seeing Indira had been wonderful, but pretending to hate him had hurt. I didn’t have to pretend to hate Angelo. There was no reason for me to hate my lawyer.
“Of course I am.”
I couldn't even be annoyed at the smugness in his voice. Tears stung my eyes. Crying was a bad idea but, Allah, it felt good to see him. Kieron was right; I wasn't cut out for this. I sniffed and wiped my eyes, then frowned a little. He didn’t seem at all confused by my appearance.
“You recognize me?” I asked.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Of course. My eyes aren't just good for seeing in the dark.”
What's so special about phoenix eyes? It was a question I’d asked myself a hundred times. Could he— Could he see through magic? He'd told me that Bromley had taken his eyes for himself to make a point, but there could have been more to it than that. Had he not trusted me enough to tell me? Of course not, he'd known me for all of a few hours, and the first thing I’d done was try to arrest him.
That was something worth confirming. When this was over, I would ask him about it.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked.
“Your roommate. She misses you.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I missed her too. The sooner I got Audra to tell me what I needed, the better.
“Are you allowed to make calls?” Angelo asked. “I got a cell phone. They're amazing. Did you know you can do more than call and text with them? There's this app called Grindr where—”
“I know what it is.” I did not have time for him to explain to me what the gay hookup app was. “What's your phone number?”
Disappointment flashed across his face. I felt a little bad for ruining his excitement, but time wasn’t something we had enough of to waste over it. He recited a series of numbers that was easy enough to remember. It was the Toronto area code, then the same three digits I had for my phone number, and the four corners of a keypad — 1793. I whispered it to myself a few times, tracing it with my finger, until I was satisfied I could remember it.
“Hey, bella, I have to ask… What is wrong with you? No, not your face. Your powers.”
My shoulders slumped a little, and I let out a small, relieved breath that I wasn't going to have to try to covertly explain the recognition spell. His question confirmed it: he could definitely see or sense magic. How would he be able to tell something was wrong with mine otherwise?
“It's iron. They give it to us to dull our powers.”
“I know what iron looks like. That's not iron. Not just iron, anyway.” When I only frowned, he continued. “Think of magic like energy flowing. In most people, it flows clockwise. Iron flows counterclockwise to block it. Your magic is already going counterclockwise, so the iron is just slowing it down. But there's something else in there going clockwise. Are you sensitive to anything else?”
Had I already told him about the silver? I couldn't remember. Early March felt like so long ago. I didn't make it a habit of telling people about my weakness.
Oh… no…
I hadn’t been willing to consider the possibility that the cocktail the clerk had forced me to drink contained silver. There was no reason for it to. The list of people who knew my weakness to silver was very short.
Kieron or Sabine wouldn't have let it slip. I knew them well enough to know that. And Finín… Kieron trusted him. He worked for Interpol. He would be smarter than that. Besides, he should want me to have some access to my powers if things went bad. Then who?
My chest was starting to feel tight, and the pressure was building in my sinuses again.
“Hey. Hey, bella, look at me. Deep breaths, all right? We're going to get you out of here. You're going to be fine.”
I wasn't sure if he really believed that. I certainly didn't.
Nobody is out to get you, I told myself. It could be a new standard practice. Or somebody could know about your kind of magic. It doesn't mean anything.
“I don't know what I'm doing,” I admitted. “I think I'm in trouble.”
“You wouldn't be you if you weren't. What do you need me to do?”
I could have told him to go to Kieron and Sabine. I could have told him to get me the hell out of here, mission be damned. I didn't.
I didn't have the chance to.
The same siren officer grabbed my upper arm and yanked me upright with no regard for the fact that my ‘lawyer’ was sitting not two feet away from me. Angelo stood, his chair clattering back on the floor. My skin burned from the press of a trapped barrier.
“Hey! You can't treat her that way, she has rights!” he shouted.
“You're being transferred,” the officer said.
“What? Now?”
“Yup. Lucky you.”
I twisted to look at Angelo as I was dragged down the hall. I only had seconds to pass on a message.
“Tell them something went wrong!” I shouted as the officer yanked me and door slammed shut in front of my face.
Hopefully he heard me. And, more importantly, hopefully he understood.
Chapter Nine
I wasn't given enough time to process what was happening. A second, heavier pair of iron manacles were fixed to my ankles, and I was pushed into a prison van. My shoulder hit the metal divider between me and the driver. The nerves around my scar burned like ice. I pushed my hair back with my bound hands, but the loose curls fell back over my face.
“What's going on?” I asked quietly as Audra settled into the spot across from me.
Four other girls joined us: a witch, two sirens with scars on their throats, and a banshee with an iron band around her neck. One of them, maybe the banshee, smelled like burnt toast. All four of them glared at me. No matter how I reminded myself they were just as powerless as I was, I shivered.
“We’re being transferred,” Audra said.
She was so pale, even her lips were void of colour. The fact that she was at least as scared as I was did not make me feel any better. More than ever, I wanted to be home, safe and curled up against Ariadne on the couch with a bucket of popcorn. Why did I always do these things? I knew it was a bad idea and still, I rushed into it. On what? The hope that in a week, I could get Audra Jansons, a career criminal, to spill information to a complete stranger? This sort of operation should have taken weeks, if not months. My longest undercover operation was 6 hours. This was insane. I was insane. Kieron and Sabine were i
nsane for letting me do this, and Finín was insane for encouraging it all. He was Interpol, shouldn't he have had the resources to handle this?
I frowned.
Shouldn't he have the resources to handle this?
Why would he need to come to a local police department? Even if I was looking at Rowan and Audra already, why didn't he go to the RCMP or OPP? He'd obviously known about Audra long before this.
“Hey,” Audra said. “Relax. You're going to be fine. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
Something about the way she said ’you’ made me nervous. Did she think something was going to happen to her? The other prisoners eyed us. I tried to ignore them, but everything was making my skin prickle. I'd never been prone to claustrophobia but the van felt so tight and so crowded. If I didn't get out of here soon—
The van lurched as though the driver slammed on the brakes. The banshee crushed me into the metal divider. For a blinding second, I was afraid the scar on my shoulder had split open. I inhaled through my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut.
I wished I hadn't.
I didn't see Audra move, but I felt her shadow over me, her stomach pressing my head to the back of the van as she braced herself above me. Her legs were on either side of mine, as far as the chain would allow, in a position that couldn't have been comfortable for either of us. Whether the position helped or hurt wasn't exactly on my mind.
Everything after that seemed to happen in the span of half a second. In reality, it must have taken much longer than that.
Metal crunched against my side of the van, near the back where one of the sirens was. The impact made us skid and flip. I was thrown around like a pinball. Audra's body cushioned me against the worst of the impact. Her breath rushed out as I landed on her stomach. A moment later, we flipped again. My head slammed into metal, hard enough to make my vision dance white. The banshee’s elbow came against my ribs, and a foot found my kneecap. I thought somebody might have been screaming, but it didn't stop and I realized it was my ears ringing. Dampness rolled down the side of my face. I didn't want to check if I was bleeding yet. I didn't want to know how hurt I was. If my brain didn't know, I would be less likely to go into shock. Rowan had told me that once.
And Rowan is clearly a medical professional.
It was hard to tell which way was up, especially when the van was either on its side or upside down. My vision was blurring and I was pretty sure I had a concussion. It was exactly what I needed right now.
Heavy banging rattled through the van. The witch and the banshee were trying to break the door with their shoulders. They were going to hurt themselves that way. The way to break a door open was to kick as close to the handle as possible. One of the sirens pushed the girls aside and, in a show of strength that made me never ever want to piss of a siren, rammed her own shoulder into the door hard enough to make the metal bulk out and crumple. When the second siren stepped in to help, it was only a matter of seconds before light flooded the van. My head throbbed.
I definitely had a concussion.
The banshee, all four spinning versions of her, pulled me to my feet with a sharp tug. I nearly stumbled when she let me go. The sun was so bright and everything outside was so loud. One of the sirens crouched in front of me and, before I could ask what she was doing, broke the chain connecting my ankles, then stood and did the same to the one connecting my wrists.
“Thank you.” My voice cracked, and I coughed to clear my throat. “Thank you.”
Now that I was upright and in fresh air, it was a little easier to think, but there were too many things to think about at once: the driver of the van, the driver of the truck that had slammed into us, the five now-loose criminals, the bystanders gathering around us. I couldn’t focus on it all, I couldn’t deal with it all at once. Even if there wasn’t still silver in my bloodstream, trying to bring up a barrier only brought up bile. That was not an option yet. If I could only focus on one thing — if I could only pick one person to worry about — it was going to be Audra. Hopefully the wailing sirens approaching were police on their way to handle the other four girls.
I spotted Audra walking with purpose toward a tall man at the edge of the crowd. The man’s eyebrows knit together, and a pale blue glow began to emanate from his hands.
“Audra!” I shouted. “Look out!”
The commotion from the growing crowd drowned me out. I didn’t think she’d noticed his hands and by the time she did, it might be too late.
I'd always considered myself to be a good person, someone who did the right thing. In that moment, I hesitated and learned the truth about myself.
The man raised his hands. Audra stopped. I forced myself to run.
“Get down!”
I was barely fast enough. I threw myself at her, sending us to the pavement. We only just avoiding being blasted with a bolt of blue energy. There weren’t many witches who could do something like that. I threw my hand up reflexively. Purple light crackled at my fingertips, but nothing more. How long was this silver poisoning going to last? It wasn’t wearing off fast enough.
Screams rattled my eardrums. The crowd, realizing there was still an active threat, began to scatter. We had to take advantage of that. I swayed to my feet and pulled her up with me. The man moved toward us.
“Your friend doesn't look too happy to see you. Let's go.”
I pulled her into the crowd, my hand curled around her bulky bicep. We disappeared quickly and easily. The people were too worried about getting to safety to notice our obnoxious jumpsuits. For once, the gawkers came in handy at a crime scene.
“Where are we going?” Audra asked.
“I don't know,” I admitted. I didn't know this part of the city. “This is my first prison break.”
I wasn't expecting Audra to laugh. She pulled her arm from my hand and took my wrist.
“This way.”
Following her might not have been the smartest idea. I didn't know what was the smartest idea. At this point, I didn't even know what was the least stupid idea. So I let her lead me. The longer I stayed with her, the better my chances were of getting her to trust me. Plus, I couldn't let all five convicts disappear. I had to follow at least one of them.
We weaved through alleys and back streets. I tried to follow the street signs but we didn't slow down enough, and my head was still aching. Audra let go of my hand to unzip the top half of her jumpsuit to tie around her waist as we ran. The white tank top and orange pants were slightly less conspicuous. I did the same. My own top was transparent in places from sweat.
By the time we slowed down, my calves were aching. I was more of a sprinter than a long distance runner. Audra, on the other hand, didn't seem to be so much as winded. I leaned against a brick wall, doubling over to vomit onto lush green grass. I grabbed handfuls of my hair to keep it out of the way.
“Are you okay? Christ, I've seen you lifting weights. You can't be that out of shape.”
“I hit my head,” I muttered.
Audra stepped back toward me and pushed her hand into my hair. She let out what sounded like a curse in a language I didn't understand.
“No kidding. You're still bleeding.”
I was not going to wonder how this day could get worse, not even sarcastically.
“I feel like shit.”
Audra let out a few curses I did recognize, all in English.
“Okay. Okay. We'll get you sorted out. Wait here.”
I didn't want to wait there. I needed to keep her in my sights. But another wave of nausea made me dry heave and there was nothing I could do to stop her. My entire skull hurt almost too much to keep my eyes open.
My brother Emad, the doctor, had told me that back in Medieval Europe, doctors would drill holes in skulls to relieve pressure. They still did it sometimes if someone had a brain injury. I felt like I needed that now. There was so much pressure, my brain felt like a balloon that kept trying to expand against my skull. Could that make my brain pop? Would my brain leak out of my
nose? I’d seen it happen to a victim. It wasn’t pretty.
I wasn't sure how long Audra was gone for, but it was long enough that I could think without wanting to throw up. This was a residential area, and a fairly nice neighbourhood. Why had the van gone this way? There were better ways to get to the highway than to pass through so close to a neighbourhood like this.
It could have all been planned. Driving prison vans wasn't exactly a seven-figure salary. It wouldn't be impossible to imagine a driver being paid to take a different route, maybe even to be in a specific place at a specific time. The vans were usually tracked, but a tech witch with any slightly-above-average skills could fake a location. I bet it was something Kieron's nephew would be able to do without breaking a sweat. Not that I thought he would. He might have been eccentric and sold slightly not legal spells, but he didn't seem the type to use his powers like this.
That didn't mean somebody else wouldn't. Money was a very powerful motivator.
I pushed my hands through my hair. I had to find Audra and figure out a way to get her back to the authorities without blowing my cover.
How long did I have left with Elias’ spell? He'd said a week, so hopefully I still had a few days. The silver, on the other hand, I couldn't wait to be done with. I needed to be able to put up a barrier again. I was not going to call myself defenseless, but I'd come to rely on the reflexive barriers not just to protect me, but also to use as a weapon. Right now, I had nothing. No gun, no barriers, not even a utility knife. All I had were my fists and, sure, I could fight, but not with the on-and-off migraines.
I was starting to worry I’d lost Audra for good when she finally returned.
“Come on. I found a place for us to get cleaned up.”
