by Sarah Fine
“Or maybe Ben just wants to punish his brother for breaking his nose last night.”
Agent Winslow pushed his chair back and stood up. “Ah . . . excuse me, please.” He turned and stared at the mirror. A moment later, the door clicked, and in walked a very tall woman with short black hair and a hawkish nose. “This is Agent Badem.” He gave her a raised-eyebrow look. “I’m not making much headway.”
“Maybe you need a woman’s touch.” She held out her hand to shake, and, still reeling from the realization that Ben had betrayed not only me, but also every carnie in the Carnival Magia, I offered mine in return.
The moment our palms touched, a heavy sense of peace shot up my arm and settled in my chest, quelling the stabbing pain. “Nice to meet you,” Agent Badem said.
“Hey. Same,” I replied, feeling my tongue go loose.
“Asa Ward,” Agent Badem said. “Where can we find him?”
“No idea.” Although, suddenly the image of the vet clinic popped into my mind. My mouth opened to tell her about Gracie, how much Asa loved her, how stinkin’ cute she was, how adorable the two of them were together, how his love and care for her made me want to hug him fiercely and never let go . . . but at the same time, alarm bells inside my head rang loud enough to snap me out of it.
“No freaking idea.” I yanked my hand out of the woman’s grasp. Her power was different from Quentin’s. Both were Ekstazo, but where he emitted pleasure and happiness, she emitted a heavier, mind-numbing kind of contentment.
“Dr. Ward was concerned he’d taken advantage of you. We’ve certainly seen this kind of Stockholm syndrome in the past, and it would explain why you’re protecting him. Have you developed romantic feelings for Mr. Ward?” Agent Badem leaned on the table, looking at me intently.
I smiled as my head lolled back. “Oh, lady, the answer to that is really complicated.”
“We’ve got all night.” Her grin was full of reassurance and confidence as she placed her warm hand over mine.
“It would take longer than that.” I stood up quickly as my head began to swim and my mouth filled with saliva. “Dial it back, lady, or I’m gonna throw up Twizzlers all over your pantsuit.”
She looked startled and took a step back from the table. “We just want you to feel comfortable.”
“I hate you people,” I snapped. “In my book, Knedas and Ekstazos are just as bad as Strikons, if not worse. You use your powers to control people. To make them do things they don’t want to. You’re just like every mob lackey I ever met.”
“We didn’t mean to upset you.” She put her hands up, giving me a look full of concern. “Are you all right, Mattie?”
“No,” I said in a loud voice, swaying where I stood. “I’m not. I’ve done nothing wrong, and I don’t know why I’m here.”
“You’re here because your fiancé wanted us to ensure your safety in return for handing over the priceless Sensilo relic,” said Agent Winslow. “It’s really that simple.”
“Well, screw you. And screw him.”
Agent Badem stepped close to me and closed her long fingers around my wrist. “He was afraid you would be angry with him. But it’s obvious he was only doing what he thought was right. He was concerned that his brother was using Knedas magic to keep you at his side, and frankly, we were concerned about the same thing.”
A swell of nausea crowded out the relaxed tingling that rolled up my arm. “Oh my God, you people are such hypocrites.”
Agent Winslow sighed. “I think it’s time for Mattie’s phone call.”
“Mm,” said Agent Badem, who was now rubbing my back. I plopped back into the chair as my legs turned to jelly. I swear, the lady was like walking morphine. I put my head down on the table and groaned.
“Olivia, a lighter touch is called for,” said Winslow. “She’s clearly a bit fragile. We have to be careful not to overdose her.”
“I hayshoo people,” I said again, my words slurring.
Agent Badem stopped rubbing my back and instead slid a phone across the table. “Make your call, Mattie.”
“Privashee.”
“I’m afraid we can’t offer you that.”
“Shtoopud Headshmen.”
“Agent Badem, maybe you should give Ms. Carver some space.” Agent Winslow waved Agent Badem from the room. “I’m sorry. I thought it would help to relax you.”
I lifted my head and glowered at his blurry form. He pushed the phone a bit closer, deftly avoiding the little puddle of drool I’d left on the table. “Perhaps I can make this easier.” He clicked on my photo, and up popped a contact number. He pushed it and initiated a call.
“Hello,” said my mother.
“Hello, Mrs. Carver. This is Kyle Winslow from the New Kent County Sheriff’s Office. As promised, I’ve got your daughter here.”
“Mattie?” Mom’s voice went high and tremulous. “Oh, honey, we’ve been so worried. Ben called and explained everything.”
“Heyyyyy.” I shook my head and blinked, grateful for Agent Badem’s departure. “What did he explain?”
“He just said he made some mistakes, and one of them was allowing his brother back into his life. We had no idea Ben was related to such a dangerous man. Why didn’t you tell us? We’ve been waiting by the phone to hear from Agent Winslow. He promised to bring you home safe and sound.”
I buried my head in my hands. “Mom, I’m fine. I was always fine.”
“Oh, honey. They said you might say that.” She sniffled. “Come home, Mattie. We got the wedding favors today. They’re so cute—you’re going to love how they turned out. I never knew Instagram made coasters.”
“Instagram didn’t make them,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling even sicker than when Agent Badem was trying to use her mojo on me.
“Well, your guests are going to adore them. And your dad got fitted for his tux. He’s lost five pounds! And—”
“I have to go, Mom.” My voice faded as the knife in my chest twisted mercilessly.
“Okay, baby, but promise me you’ll call again. We miss you and want you home where you belong.”
“Bye, Mom,” I whispered. I tapped the phone to end the call and hunched over the pain.
“Mattie, you don’t look well.”
“I’m so tired of people saying that. As if I was unaware.”
“Ben informed us that you’re a reliquary. He was concerned that Mr. Ward was going to use you as part of his smuggling operations. It just so happens we have people here who can help you if that’s the case.”
“No.”
“Are you carrying magic? Did Mr. Ward force you to transport magic illegally? You don’t have to protect him.”
Stupid tears overflowed my eyes, and I angrily swiped at them. “Can you just leave me alone and focus on getting ahold of the grand prize? Will you let me go if Ben gives it to you?”
“Yes. We’ll release you as soon as we have the Sensilo relic.” But now Agent Winslow was looking at me with a distinctly suspicious glint in his eye. “I hope you won’t mind if we assess your health first, though. We’re responsible for you while you’re in our custody, and we’re well equipped to handle smuggled bits of magic.” He turned back to the mirror and made a quick gesture at his chest.
The door opened, and in walked a man I hadn’t imagined ever seeing again. His black hair was slicked away from his face, and his dark eyes were bright with hatred.
“Daeng.” The last time I had seen him, he had been writhing on the ground outside a dingy hotel in Bangkok after I’d kneed him in the crotch, kicked him in the face, and shoved a handful of mud into his mouth—mud soaked with Asa’s blood. It had overloaded Daeng’s system in a pretty catastrophic way, because he had the same power Asa did.
“My friend,” Daeng said softly, malice in every quiet word. “This is a happy coincidence.”
“You two know each other?” Winslow asked.
“We only met once,” said Daeng. “I had so hoped to see Mattie again someday, however.”
I backed up until my shoulder blades hit cinder block. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the other side of the ocean?”
“After our encounter, I’m afraid Mr. Montri wasn’t very happy with me. But a wonderful Headsman came to my aid. Perhaps you know him. Agent Keenan? He extracted me from that terrible situation and rehabilitated me. I’m very grateful.”
I swallowed hard. “Oh, yeah. How is Keenan?”
Daeng smiled. “Very interested to hear how you’re faring. Especially if you have information as to Mr. Ward’s whereabouts.”
“Oh, sure. It’s always about him.”
He leaned forward slightly. “I’d be happy to make it about you.”
A cold chill passed through me.
“I’m wondering if you could tell me if Ms. Carver here is loaded up,” said Agent Winslow.
“I can tell you right now that she is,” Daeng said. “Strikon. I felt it as soon as I entered the room.” He gave me an assessing look. “I shouldn’t be able to feel the magic inside you this easily. Are you broken?”
I flinched at the word. “I’m fine. Completely fine. But I’ve got a heck of a headache. Maybe that’s what you’re sensing.” My heart wouldn’t slow down, and I was sweating. The pain throbbed hot and heavy inside me, like I’d swallowed liquid fire.
Daeng didn’t look so hot, either—he’d started to sweat, too. He turned to Agent Winslow. “It would be better for her if we remove this magic from her body and get it into a relic we can package up.”
“Is it powerful?” asked Winslow, staring at my chest. “Valuable?”
“It’s concentrated.” Daeng frowned as he sidled closer to me. “Not massive, but extremely potent.”
“No!” I said. “I won’t let you do this.” I had never done an extraction without Asa taking care of me, and in that moment I missed him so terribly that it almost brought me to my knees. And to have Daeng there instead? Horror was choking me. “You can’t take anything from me without my permission. I’m a vault.”
“Agent Okafor is extremely skilled,” Winslow said to Daeng. “He’s worked on unwilling reliquaries before.”
I gaped at him. “Do you have any idea how wrong that sounds?”
“The magic inside her is almost certainly valuable,” Daeng said to Winslow. “Once it’s out, I might be able to tell you where it came from. It might help you trace Asa Ward.”
“It won’t tell you anything,” I said to Agent Winslow. “And I’ve done nothing to warrant this kind of treatment. I’m only here because you guys want the Sensilo relic. It doesn’t matter what I have inside me—as long as it’s not that, right?”
I wasn’t about to mention I was holding a different piece of original magic, but it turned out not to matter.
Winslow gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Mattie. I think removing the magic is what’s best for you.”
“Please page your conduit, then.” A slow smile spread across Daeng’s handsome face. “And fetch me some handcuffs.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sometimes, after something terrible happens to a person, especially a woman, other people wonder why she didn’t do more to defend herself, to protect herself, to call for help.
I know why. At some point, the terror and the helplessness coil around you so tight that you can’t move. It’s like ropes twining round your limbs, a blindfold over your eyes, a gag in your mouth.
It smothers and silences, but it doesn’t numb.
I mutely slid down the wall and wrapped my arms around my knees as Daeng and Winslow exited the room to page Agent Okafor, the conduit who could apparently overpower reluctant reliquaries. I stared up at the mirror across the room, wordlessly pleading with whoever stood behind it. But I knew they didn’t care about me. They wanted what was inside me, no matter the damage they did in acquiring it. I wasn’t a person to them. Once again I was just an object—a bargaining chip, a trunk that needed to be opened.
When I had first met Asa, he’d treated me a little like that, too. At some point, though, that had changed. He’d become my rock, my certainty, my safety when the storm hit. And now I needed him. He’d never left me behind. I knew he wouldn’t walk away. But he probably had no idea where I was. And Asa could do a lot of things, but breaking into a sheriff’s station packed with armed deputies and trained Headsmen who clearly had defenses against mind-twisting magic might be too much to expect.
Yet somehow, I did expect it. My muscles tensed at the sound of every muffled voice outside the door, hoping it might be his. My heart lurched every time a door slammed, wondering if it was the beginning of a rescue. My hope just wouldn’t quit.
Until Daeng wheeled the stretcher into the room. It had thick leather cuffs for wrists and ankles, straps for the body. He gestured at it happily. “We borrowed this from the hospital next door. Very convenient. Please take your position.”
“Screw you.”
“Agent Okafor,” Daeng called into the hallway. “I think I might need your assistance to get our reliquary on the table.”
In walked a casually dressed African American man in his late twenties, with a broad forehead and a clean-shaven square jaw, good-looking in a solid, staunch kind of way. His black hair was cut in a short crop, thick curls on top and shaved sides. He wasn’t that tall, maybe five nine, but he was seriously built, with bulging pecs and biceps that suggested hours spent at a weight bench. He gazed down at me and arched an eyebrow. “Hello, Ms. Carver,” he said in a deep, smooth voice. “I’m Jack Okafor.”
I blinked at him. “Jack . . . Okafor.”
“The third,” he added, his dark-brown eyes cold. “I believe you knew my grandfather.”
“Oh God,” I whispered. “You’re Jack’s grandson.”
“And you and Asa Ward left my grandfather on a dingy hotel-room floor with a bullet through his skull.”
I grimaced at the memory. “We didn’t kill him.”
“I didn’t say you did. I also didn’t say I cared about the distinction. You treated him with as much regard as a sack of meat.”
“I’m so sorry. We were running for our lives, and—”
“Really not interested in your excuses.”
“I wouldn’t have left him like that if I’d had a choice!”
“Ms. Carver actually has a habit of leaving people for dead,” said Daeng.
I rose on my knees, anger giving me a temporary surge of strength. “I left you after you did your level best to kill me and Asa. Did you honestly expect me to stay and cuddle?”
“Let’s get her strapped in,” said Daeng, his cheek twitching, his face glistening with perspiration. “I’d like to get this done.”
Jack came over to me, and I pressed myself back against the wall, my hands up, my eyes clamped shut, and my face turned away. “Come on, Mattie. Don’t be a baby.”
His hands closed around my upper arms, and he lifted me up as if I were a puppy. My toes brushed the ground as he briskly carried me over to the stretcher. And here was where I could have struggled. Here was where I could have fought. But the pain and the horror and the absolute helplessness were like a muscle relaxant, sapping me of any fight I had. Jack outweighed me by nearly a hundred pounds, and he had me on that stretcher in an instant.
As he took hold of my wrists to place them in the cuffs, I looked up at his face. “Our grandfathers were good friends. They worked together for years.”
“I know. I’ve heard all the stories.” He seemed to be avoiding my gaze.
“What happened to your grandfather was tragic and wrong. But he would never have wanted you to do this. He came to my rescue because he cared about me. He gave his life saving me. He was a great man who made a great sacrifice.”
Jack’s jaw clenched as he pressed my arms into the cuffs. Daeng quickly buckled them before moving to my ankles. I shuddered as I felt his hands on my legs. “Please, Jack. If you’re anything like he was, you won’t do this to me.”
Jack turned abruptly, grabbed one of the metal chair
s, and set it down sharply next to my stretcher with a ringing clang. “Don’t tell me what kind of man my grandfather was. Don’t act like you knew him.”
“Look at me and tell me he would approve.”
His eyes met mine. “I’m about to remove illegally procured magic from an uncooperative subject. He knew I was a Headsman. He respected my choices.”
“You’re going to kill me. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
He let out an impatient sigh. “I’ve been a professional conduit for nearly a decade, so I doubt that’s true.” He glanced at Daeng. “You got the relic we’re gonna put this in?”
Daeng produced what appeared to be a solid cube of metal, about three inches on a side. “Winslow gave me this.”
Jack nodded. “Made to handle homeless magic. Always does the trick.”
I sniffled. “If I die, will you walk away from me? Will you treat me like a sack of meat? Is this payback?”
“Look. I’m not here to hurt you. That’s not what this is about at all. I’m just here to get a job done.”
Daeng fiddled with the cuffs around my ankles. “Your supervisor wants this magic soon.”
“My supervisor will get this magic when he gets it,” Jack snapped. “I’m not a machine and neither is she.”
I blinked. “Thank you.”
His nostrils flared and he looked away, the muscles of his neck tensing. It was like he wanted to be hard—but I could tell he had a heart buried under that armor. Maybe he was more like his grandfather than he was letting on. He held out his hand, and Daeng placed the metal cube on his palm. “Mattie, it’s gonna work best if you just let this go. Don’t fight me.”
My need for Asa hit me again, hard and abrupt like a sucker punch. “I’m not sure how.” I stared at the ceiling while my tears flowed freely. “I usually have help.”
“I’ll help you if you let me,” he said gently. “I swear I will.”
“She’s an uncooperative subject,” Daeng said. “You’re authorized to use whatever force is necessary.”
“And if no force is necessary, that’s exactly how much I’ll use.” Jack’s voice was thunder in the small room. “If you try to tell me how to do my job one more time, I’m going to show you the door.”
