by Amir Lane
“How did you end up in all of this?” I asked between bites of my sandwich.
Her eyes shifted to the restaurant patrons. I nodded in understanding and wiggled my fingers. A barrier rose from them, thin and filmy, only noticeable from certain angles, and completely soundproof. It didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier. The food and caffeine were already doing wonders for my strength.
“You can talk now.”
She eyed me suspiciously, then banged her hand on the table. I flinched, but nobody else did.
“Okay. You’re not half-bad.” She took a sip of her own coffee. “The first thing you need to know is that the Black Birches isn’t a single gang. It’s what they call any dryad gang family in Belarus, and some smaller countries. The idea was to make themselves seen bigger and scarier than they were so they would be left alone. It worked, and it’s why it’s been impossible to shut them down.”
“Because shutting them down means shutting down every single gang family.”
“Exactly. Here, it’s the opposite. They’re scattered, no cohesion. All they have is the name. It’s why they can’t really get any foothold here. Why they’re such a mess. And why they’re so much easier to infiltrate.”
I’d always wondered how Rowan could have been sold to his own gang. It made slightly more sense if it wasn’t actually his gang.
“What do you know about the Biarozy family?” I asked
“They only came up a few decades ago. I think there was some kind of power struggle inside the clan. The Biarozy Birches weren’t involved with the dryad gangs before then. The story is that the heir ran away when the queen of the Biarozy Birches at the time died, and nobody ever heard of him again. His mother ended up taking over the clan and basically jump-starting the Black Birches network. What actually happened?”
I shifted. I trusted her, but did I trust her that much?
Did I have a choice?
“I don’t know all of it,” I admitted. “I only know a bit of what happened to Rowan. He was sold to a gang and trafficked. Somehow, he ended up in Canada. I think on the West coast. He was rescued by an RCMP officer and adopted. Last year, somebody he owed a debt to returned and forced him to—”
“I heard about the video. I just didn’t realize it was the same person. So he’s still alive.”
“I think so.”
She nodded, sipping at her coffee. I did the same. Caffeine filled my veins, relieving my headache and feeding the barrier.
“What do you think we should do?” I asked.
She lifted her eyes to me.
“Well, I would like to have a word with Finín Quinn. I have a lot of questions for him.”
She wasn’t the only one.
Chapter Fourteen
We spent a long time putting together a plan of action. I thought we should be able to walk into the precinct and just talk to Kieron and Finín. After all, Audra had abandoned her cover. It wasn’t as if she would be able to go back to it. Audra disagreed. She wanted to lure Finín out and ambush him. Several coffees and over two hours later, we weren’t any closer to a resolution. All we were was exhausted and stubborn.
She set another coffee in front of me. This much caffeine probably wasn’t good for us. My leg was starting to bounce.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Okay. We’ll do it your way.”
Not because I agreed with her, but because waiting for them to show up would buy us more time to brainstorm what the hell was going on.
There were two burning questions: why hadn’t Finín come back for Audra, and why had he be so insistent that I go undercover?
I knew the answers. Somewhere deep inside, I knew. I didn’t want to acknowledge it for Kieron’s sake. It would crush him to find out that his friend, someone he’d served in the army with, was working for the Black Birches. I couldn’t throw the accusation unless I was completely sure.
I gathered the paper cups and sandwich wrappers and threw them in the trash. When I turned back, Audra was gone.
“Ya Allah, are you kidding me?” I muttered.
I walked back to the table, but there was no sign of her. I turned to the faerie girls who had been sitting next to us.
“Excuse me, did you see the woman I was with leave?”
They shook their heads. I thanked them anyway. Maybe she went to the washroom. She wouldn't have left completely, would she?
Yes, I realized as I searched the washroom, she would. She would, and she did.
The headache was returning. What if everything she'd said to me was a lie, and she'd just pulled me into a false sense of security? I'd just let a criminal loose, and I had no way of finding her again. I pushed my hands into my hair. My focus was fading fast as panic closed in. What was I supposed to do now? She couldn't have gotten far — she only had a few minutes’ head start — but I had no idea which direction she'd gone. If I went searching in the wrong direction, I could lose her completely. On the other hand, I would also lose her if I just stood here freaking out.
Where would she go?
Audra clearly knew some of the safe places for parahumans in this city. She'd known about the bookshop. It wasn't a stretch to imagine she'd know about more. So what were the safe places I knew? The only thing that came to mind was the libraries. She was a dryad, she might have gone to a park.
Think. You're an undercover officer and you've just blown your cover to another undercover officer. But you obviously don't trust her all that much, so you run. Where?
Of course, there were two versions of the scenario. One was that Audra was, in fact, an undercover officer. The other was that it was a convenient story to get me off her trail. Both had wildly different outcomes. I was a detective. I might have been working with limited resources, but I still had my own skills.
The street wasn't a terribly busy one. I couldn't see any bus stops, which meant she was either on foot or had managed to flag down a taxi. I didn't see any of those, either. Though, criminal-Audra might not be opposed to threatening somebody for a lift. Either way, she would go somewhere safe to regroup and figure out a next step.
What if it was me? Where would I go? Who would I trust?
Home and Ariadne were the immediate first answers. Only, I wouldn't put her at risk, and Audra had neither a home nor any family here that I knew of. If there were any Birches she was particularly close to, it hadn't been in her file and she hadn't said. Next on my list would be Kieron. He was a cop that I trusted. I didn't think Audra even knew any cops in the city. Maybe by name, but not personally, or at least not personally enough to go to if she was in trouble. The only Interpol agent I knew of was Finín, and she obviously didn't trust him. She thought he'd screwed her over.
She thinks he screwed her over.
I stopped my pacing and stared at nothing in particular. It should have been my first thought. Audra was going to find Finín Quinn. That was all assuming she was really Interpol. I had no other leads. By the time it occurred to me to find a pay phone to send Kieron a message — I didn't need change to call 9-1-1 — I was already sprinting in that direction of the city. It would take me hours on foot. I only made it a couple of blocks before I was out of breath and stitches were forming in my sides. This wasn't going to work. I needed a Plan B.
I waved down a cab and got into the passenger seat, ignoring the fact that I had no money to pay the driver with.
“Where to, sweetheart?”
Under normal circumstances, I would get out and find another cab with a driver who didn't sweetheart me. These were not normal circumstances, and I was short in time. I gave him the 12th precinct’s address.
“You in trouble?” the driver asked, sounding more conversational than concerned.
Normally, I would have chatted with him. Today, I had neither the energy nor the patience. I kept my eyes on the window. People-watching was an old habit that I was glad for when I noticed a familiar short brunette pacing down the sidewalk with intense determination. People walking toward her parted out of her w
ay without hesitation. She walked like a woman on a mission.
“Stop the car!”
The cab skid to a dead stop. I lurched forward. My seatbelt tightened and caught me before I hit the dashboard. Whiplash blurred my vision, and I gasped a little. I turned my head in a panic, looking for any car that might slam into us. A blue Toyota swerved into the next lane, the driver honking furiously.
“What the fuck?”
I was unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the car door when the driver turned to me. He reached out to grab, me but I was already halfway out the car.
“Call the police department, they'll take care of it!” I said with no additional context as I sprinted down the street.
“You fucking bet I will!” the cab driver shouted through the open window. “Bitch!”
I ignored him. The commotion had a few people turning their heads in my direction, Audra included. Her eyes widened, and I saw her mouth the word, “Shit!” before she started running too.
“Toronto Police! Stop running!”
That apparently didn't work on fake criminals any more than it did on real criminals. Audra barely looked back at me. I darted around the pedestrians who didn't seem worried about getting mowed down. The fact that I'd identified myself as police didn't seem to bother anybody. No-one so much as stuck a foot out to stop Audra. It was like some stupid version of the bystander effect. Nobody thought it was their job to help. Heat centred into my hand. I held the energy there, waiting for a good opportunity to throw it at her. There were too many pedestrians. The risk of hitting one was too much. Why did I have to live in such a crowded city?
Audra was approaching an intersection marked with green lights in our direction. The pedestrian countdown flashed numbers. If Audra got across the street before the light changed colour, I'd have no chance at catching her. I sped up, clenching my hands into fists. The purple energy still warmed my right hand. Finally, Audra turned her head to look back at me, missing the white walking figure change to a red hand.
She didn't see the light change.
She didn't see the truck moving through the intersection.
Her foot came off the sidewalk.
“Stop!” I shouted and threw my hand up.
The purple bolt of energy flew from my hand. It missed her by a few inches and slammed into the truck. The truck swerved to the right, away from Audra, and skid to a stop. Audra’s feet stuttered. She hit the side of the truck with her arms braced to stop herself. The pause was all I needed to catch up to her and wrap my arms around her waist. She was too stunned to fight me as I pulled her away from the truck and the gawking pedestrians. I took her hand and pulled her down the street the truck had come down. Only when I could no longer hear the swearing driver did I stop.
“What is wrong with you?” I panted.
“Me? You just about got me killed just now!”
“What?” Was she kidding me? “You're the one who just ran into moving traffic! I'm the one who kept you from getting flattened like a pancake!”
“I wouldn't have been running if not for you chasing me.”
“I wouldn't have been chasing you if you hadn't run off.”
Audra continued to glare at me, but I took her lack of response as a win. I stood upright and stretched my back. My joints popped. I was getting too old for this. I didn't think I'd done this much running in a single twenty-four hour period since I'd graduated from the police academy. If this was going to be a regular occurrence, I needed to start running marathons to keep in shape.
“Why did you run?” I demanded when I could finally breathe without my lungs feeling like they were about to collapse.
Audra only glared at me. Her chest was moving quickly, suggesting she was more winded than she appeared.
“You're going to try and confront Finín Quinn, aren't you? What were you thinking you were going to do? Just walk into the precinct and say you want to talk to him? You're a wanted criminal,” I reminded her.
“I know that. I was going to turn myself in, then tell them who I really am.”
“Do you really think that would work?” I asked skeptically.
She didn't have to say anything for me to see the uncertainty in her eyes.
“It isn't safe for me to go back undercover. If they request my file, they'd see I'm telling the truth.”
“Not everybody cares about the truth.”
I wasn't sure where the words came from. It wasn't something I'd ever said before, even if I'd thought it. As much as it pained me to admit, those words were the truth, especially in the police department. Sometimes, people wanted an easy answer more than they wanted the truth, regardless of the consequences. In this case, the possibility that Audra was making the story up was much simpler than the truth. The wrong officer wouldn't care what she said.
“I think your face spell is wearing off,” Audra said. “You’re definitely easier to look at. You know, you were prettier before.”
My hands flew to my face. I didn't feel any different. Of course, I hadn't felt any different when I'd first activated the spell, either. The momentary panic disappeared as soon as I realized that wasn't a bad thing anymore. In fact, it was perfect. Now was exactly when I wanted to be recognized as Detective Fairuz Arshad.
Audra regarded the grin that spread across my face with a suspicious scowl.
“You've just given me an idea,” I said.
“Is it a good idea?” Audra asked doubtfully.
“It’s an idea. I think it will get you an audience with Finín Quinn. One where he won’t know what's coming.”
Audra’s lips quirked up into a smirk.
“All right, pretty girl. I’m in.”
Chapter Fifteen
My plan was simple. All we had to do was lure Quinn to a secluded spot away from any civilians who could get hurt if a fight broke out. Given how worked up Audra was, I fully expected it to get violent. I didn't blame her. She'd been lost in the Black Birches for three months with nobody she could trust and no idea why she'd been abandoned. As much as I told myself there was a rational explanation, I couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling Quinn had given me. And, truthfully, if I were in her situation, I'd be just as angry.
It would have been just as easy for me to haul Audra into the precinct to confront Quinn, but that relied on him already being there. Plus, in a building full of cops, I had no doubt Quinn would get more support than Audra. It was the sad reality of long-term undercover officers. In the time it would take to verify her story, opinions would form. And if Quinn really had done something wrong, he could disappear by the time the truth was corroborated.
Are you sure you're trusting the right person? I asked myself as I let Audra lead me to what was supposed to be a safe house. You still don't know that she isn't the one full of shit.
It was hard not to doubt myself, especially as the near-empty bus we were on moved farther from the precinct. This could have all been an elaborate trap. But Audra hadn't known I was a cop when we’d inadvertently broken out of prison. She could have suspected it, though. Those Black Birch men had accused her of being a mole. Maybe she'd put it together when I'd come to her rescue, before I’d outed myself.
I couldn't think of a single reason not to trust Quinn beyond a gut feeling. Audra had given me plenty of reasons not to trust her. She'd threatened me, nearly stabbed the people whose house we’d broken into, and run off on me at least twice so far. But Quinn…
Quinn had been too pushy. Nobody else was prepared to let somebody as inexperienced as me go undercover. The only reason Sabine had allowed it was because Quinn had pushed her. He could have been especially eager to get whatever information Audra had, but would he risk such an important mission on someone so green? And how did he know about the breakout when Audra didn't?
Nothing makes sense.
No, that wasn't true. Only one thing made sense. Unfortunately, that thing was that Finín Quinn was working for or with the Black Birches. Maybe he needed some more excitement in his li
fe after leaving the army, maybe the Black Birches offered him a lot of money. Maybe he was being threatened or blackmailed. There were a long list of reasons why he might have been doing it, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the growing suspicion.
“You're worried I'm going to murder you,” Audra said.
I lifted my head to look at her in surprise.
“I'm not—”
“Your face is an open book. I knew something was up with you from the start. I just can't believe it took me so long to realize you were a cop.” She snorted and shook her head. “Don't worry, princess. Even if I was really a big bad mobster, I wouldn't kill a cop. The amount of shit prison guards give cop killers isn't worth it.”
I shifted to sit more upright. My eyelids felt heavy. Bus rides had always made me sleepy. More than once when I was in school, I'd fallen asleep on the ride to or from class and completely missed my stop. I'd been so afraid of missing a test because of it that whenever I had midterms or exams, I walked to class.
“So if you were a big, bad mobster, what would you do with me?” I asked.
Audra shrugged. “Well, somebody else would probably think killing you was worth it. But I'd just leave you tied up somewhere and call the cops to collect you. Or I'd just leave you until somebody found you on their own. I'm not a big fan of killing people if I don't have to.”
I gave a small nod. Now seemed as good a time as any to remind myself that the best way to get out of being tied up was to flex my muscles while it was happening so the rope would have a little slack when I stopped flexing. That would make it easier to get out of. Of course, that only worked if I was conscious. If she knocked me out first, I'd probably be screwed.
“Oh, relax. If I wanted to do something like that, I already would have.” She paused. “Unless I wanted to barter you for my freedom. That'd be a better idea than just leaving you.”
I wasn't sure if she was screwing with me or if she was seriously considering it. Before I could ask, she raised her hand and pulled the yellow cord above her head. A small ding chimed through the bus, and the red Stop Requested sign at the front of the bus lit up. The bus pulled over to the curb and stopped. We thanked the driver as we descended.
