by Sophie Davis
“Got somewhere to be, inmate?” Konterra grumbled as I hurried down the hallway as quickly as my shackles would allow. “Maybe you have a hot date lined up?” The guard laughed at her own pathetic joke.
There was no use engaging with her, since that was what Konterra wanted. Instead, I stared straight ahead and continued on towards the shower room.
Once there, Konterra removed my restraints, then practically shoved me inside a shower cube and locked the door behind me.
“Five minutes, inmate,” she barked through the partition, which ended several feet shy of the ceiling. “Make sure you scrub extra hard, you need to wash away that bad attitude of yours.” Again, Konterra cackled like she was the wittiest woman alive.
Ignoring her, I turned on the faucet and stepped beneath the stinging, hard stream.
The water was cool, though I actually found the temperature refreshing. Since I didn’t have the luxury of ordering endless pots of caffeine to keep me alert while I reviewed the new information Victoria sent over, this was my best chance for invigorating my tired eyes and aching muscles. I was hoping to work through the night, eager to come up with something for the council as soon as humanly possible.
The new files had arrived between lunch and dinner. I’d spent the evening reading the articles, I-posts, and police reports aloud to Yocum. Despite his constant grumbling to the contrary, he’d seemed to enjoy story time, getting in to solving the big mystery. Unfortunately, we only made it through three of the five folders before Yocum’s shift ended and the witchy Konterra took his place.
Thus far, I hadn’t found any new information regarding the cow thefts. Even the new police reports failed to shed fresh light on the matter. The investigating officers did not take the abductions all that seriously, thanks largely to the one farmer’s frequent alien claims, so they weren’t exactly pushing themselves to solve the crimes. And, unlike Victoria, the police hadn’t made any sort of connection, even a tenuous one, between the power outages and cattle heists.
A particularly thorough investigator from the electric company did look into the possibility that the power outages were the work of an Electrical Manipulator, theorizing that a rogue Created had been testing his new abilities in an area unlikely to draw attention from UNITED. This avenue had led nowhere conclusive, though. The most telling piece of new information came from a note the investigator made at the bottom of his report; one section of the power grid was pulling an unprecedented amount of power during the same timeframe as the outages. Unfortunately, I had no idea where that fit in with everything else.
I’d made a note to have Victoria’s people find out what exactly was in that specific area of the grid, since the investigator’s report didn’t include that information. Naturally, the suspicious part of my mind had considered the possibility that those particular details were purposefully eliminated from the electrical company’s report as part of some widespread cover-up.
Sure, it might’ve been time for me to don a tinfoil hat. But if we were really considering that this might all be part of some great conspiracy, I figured it was entirely plausible.
Three sharp bangs on the shower door pulled me from my wild speculations.
“Time’s up, inmate!” Konterra hollered, pulling the shower door open just as the water automatically shut off.
I dried off with the thin towel she handed me, then dressed in fresh prison clothes that were identical to the ones I’d removed five minutes earlier. Clothes and fashion had always been more of Penny’s department than mine, but I was really looking forward to reintroducing color and soft fabrics into my daily wardrobe.
Once I was dressed, it took Konterra under a minute to replace all of the restraints.
In a perverse way, this was one of my favorite parts of our brief face-to-face time together; I greatly enjoyed making her uncomfortable. The woman loved antagonizing me, and making any number of witty quips at my expense, but deep down, Konterra was actually quite terrified to be in my presence. When I was restrained, she felt confident that I was no threat, since I was supposedly without my powers. But during this brief time when my arms and legs were free, the guard worried I might kill her with my bare hands. Apparently, that was a skill I was rumored to have.
“Why are you grinning? Did I say you could smile? What’s wrong with you?” Konterra demanded, backing away from me. Her expression was hard, but tendrils of fear squeezed at her abdomen.
“Nothing,” I replied, continuing to smirk. “I’m just thinking about how sad it is that our time together is almost over. I guess you’ll need to find a new prisoner to torment once I’m free in the world again. Or maybe I’ll come back and visit you. You’d like that, right?”
Konterra’s hand darted out and closed around my upper arm with a vice grip. She yanked, hard.
“Start moving,” she hissed.
Neither of us spoke again until we reached my cell door.
“I might have you out of my hair sooner than you think,” the guard said, something dangerously close to a genuine smile on her lips. “And I don’t think you’ll be coming back to visit.” Konterra undid the locks on the ankle cuffs, then straightened to her full height and glared down at me. “Nothing would make me happier than for you and the other traitors to get what you deserve.”
Roughly, she grabbed my joined wrists and pressed her finger to the sensor in the center of the handcuffs. The locks disengaged and the cuffs fell away. In a rare show of true nerve, the guard wrapped her fingers around my wrists, digging her nails into my skin in the process.
“You have no ide—” she started, cutting off in surprise when I easily broke free from her grip.
Truly, I hadn’t meant to fight her hold. I’d been acting purely on instinct. Nonetheless, Konterra was pissed. She drew her hand back, as if to slap me.
On Vault, guards were allowed to hit prisoners if provoked. And I was pretty sure even Victoria would have a hard time believing that I hadn’t provoked this altercation.
But backing down from a fight wasn’t in my nature.
Before I thought about the words and their potential consequences, I whispered, “Do it. I dare you.”
“Talia? Talia? What’s going on?”
Hearing Erik’s voice inside my head was so unexpected that I froze, wondering briefly if I was imagining him.
“Talia? Can you hear me?”
Nope, it definitely wasn’t my imagination. Erik was there, in my mind, his tone laced with concern and uncertainty.
“Erik,” I sent, a burst of longing accompanying the message. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed having you in my head.”
In front of me, Konterra’s fierce expression turned wary. I realized my own face must have changed from shock and outrage to something else entirely. I couldn’t say for sure what she saw, since I had so many emotions fighting their way to the surface. Relief, maybe? Joy? Yearning?
Whatever it was, it didn’t sit well with my bitchy guard.
“What’s wrong with you?” Konterra demanded for the second time that night.
In my head, Erik sounded just as confused as the guard. “Who is that, Talia? What is she doing?”
This time, when Konterra drew her hand back, she sent it flying towards my face. Just before her palm connected with my cheek, it stopped abruptly.
“I’m getting Victoria,” Erik sent, his tone rife with latent anger.
Baffled, Konterra studied her hand, frozen in midair, as though it were no longer under her control. Which, of course, it wasn’t. But I hadn’t been the one to stop the impact.
“Yeah, it was me,” Erik sent. “Is this normal, Tals? Do the guards make a habit of beating up their charges? Victoria promised me—”
“No, Erik. It’s a misunderstanding. Sort of. I don’t know. But no, this isn’t normal. Don’t bother Victoria with it. It doesn’t matter.”
My reassurances did not satisfy my trigger-happy boyfriend. Erik was furious, and he was on the verge of making a very big
deal out of a very minor incident. More than anything, I didn’t want a disciplinary action from the warden to affect my visit with Erik the next day. Konterra would easily turn the situation around if it was presented to her higher-ups, and I’d be the one to pay for it.
“Erik, please don’t. Victoria had a hard time getting the council to agree to your visit tomorrow, I don’t want them to have any reason to change their minds.”
Konterra dropped her hand, her expression both irate and uneasy.
“Don’t test me, inmate,” she spat. “Next time you give me attitude, I won’t be so lenient.” With that, she slammed the cell door closed in my face.
“Wait, are you viewing me?” I asked Erik, still a little stunned by how quickly the situation had escalated, and then just as quickly dissipated.
Praying that he wasn’t, I crossed the cell to my bed and eased down on the edge of the mattress. Happy as I was to hear from him after the lengthy radio silence, the idea of Erik witnessing my dreary living conditions was unsettling. It would only upset him further, and he was already pissed about the run in with Konterra.
“Yeah, and thank goodness I was,” he replied.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Erik. She’s going to know something is up, and I’m not supposed to have my powers.”
“Did you think I was going to let her hit you?” he sent back. “Damn right I stopped her.”
“Your talents are getting stronger,” I mused, intent on changing the subject.
“Yeah, they are. It’s weird, though. Without additional injections, I thought they were supposed to get weaker.” He sighed. “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about my talents. How are you? Your cell isn’t great, but I’ve seen worse.”
Yep, he was definitely still viewing me.
“Good. I’m good,” I lied.
“Really, Tals? It’s me you’re talking to. You can be honest.”
I laughed, just the faintest trace of bitterness seeping in. “It’s prison, Erik. I mean, it’s a lot like you’d expect—bad food, cold showers, and a lot of downtime to contemplate my wicked ways. My daytime guard is a decent guy; I actually like him. You just met my nighttime guard, the highly unpleasant wench; obviously, she sucks.” I shook my head to clear the thoughts of Konterra. I didn’t want to talk about her or Vault, much the same as Erik didn’t want to talk about his talents. I just wanted to have a normal telepathic conversation with my boyfriend, like any other girl—was that too much to ask?
“I guess you’re back on Eden?” I sent. “How’s Penny? Did you guys have at least a little fun on your world travels? Have you seen Alex yet? Victoria says he’s doing well, but I’d feel better hearing it from you.”
Steering the conversation towards cheerier topics seemed like the best course of action. Talking about prison was depressing, and I didn’t want our first conversation in a month to be a downer.
“Whoa,” he sent, chuckling. “Slow down. One question at a time.”
Erik’s laughter was music to my ears. My mind conjured an image of his beautiful turquoise eyes, twinkling as a smirk lit up his handsome face. I wanted so badly to touch his cheek, run my fingers through his hair, and snuggle into his side.
Soon, I told myself. Soon we will be together for real.
“Yes, I’m back on Eden,” he sent. “We just arrived a couple of hours ago. I would have been in touch sooner, but I had to meet with Victoria about an incident at the last rally.”
It was obvious that Erik didn’t want to tell me about the attack. Apparently, Victoria didn’t tell him that I already knew. That was fine, though. I didn’t need to hear the details. Watching the events unfold on Yocum’s communicator had been bad enough.
“Penny is good, she’s back, too,” Erik continued. “I haven’t seen Alex yet. I wanted to go by before his bedtime, but didn’t get the chance. I promise, I’ll see him before I see you tomorrow, then I’ll be able to give you a full report. As for fun, well, we were on a diplomatic mission. There wasn’t much sightseeing beyond the landmarks right by the rally sites. But I’d love to go back to a bunch of the places with you, so we can really check them out. If you’d want to?”
“Do you even have to ask?” I asked, once again hit by a burst of longing. Of course, a niggling sense of doubt crept in. Traveling the word, seeing historic landmarks, trooping through ancient ruins, sampling foreign cuisines—those luxuries were part of a life that other people enjoyed, not us.
“Someday, I promise,” Erik sent, picking up on my skepticism. My heart swelled with the certainty that came with his statement; someday, we’d be able to do the things other people took for granted. Someday, we would find out how the norms lived.
“Sounds like a plan,” I sent, smiling.
“Crap, I just realized what time it is. Can you hang on real quick? I need to call Victoria. I’m sort of supposed to be somewhere in a few minutes. It’s this meeting about my security for the final rally. I’m just going to let her know I need to reschedule. Give me a minute?”
“Oh, no, you should go,” I sent quickly. Erik’s safety was my number one concern. Our conversation could wait. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to go. “I’ll be right here all night. Just let me know when you’re back in your quarters.”
“Our quarters,” Erik corrected me. “It’s our apartment. Our bed. And you’ll be back here with me soon, I promise. The council can’t keep you locked up much longer. I won’t let them. I shouldn’t have let them in the first place.”
His guilt came through the bond loud and clear. Which, of course, triggered my guilty conscience, in turn. I hated that Erik felt that he was somehow to blame for my sentence on Vault. All the decisions that landed me in a cell were my own, so the consequences of those decisions were also on me. I knew the risk I was taking when saving Anya. And I definitely knew the risk I was taking when I let Kenly go free instead of hauling her back to the islands. It was ludicrous for him to think that any of it was his fault.
“I should’ve refused to play poster boy,” he rushed on. “I should’ve told them I’d only do it with you by my side. I’m so sorry, Tals.”
“Stop,” I sent. “You have nothing to feel bad about, okay? Please. It’s not your fault. I’m fine. Vault isn’t awful. Seriously, I’m just treating it like a supervised break. And it will be worlds better with you in my head. It already is. Go to your meeting, and then come back to me. Keep me company. That’s all I want.”
“I will. As soon as I’m done, I’m all yours for the rest of the night.” Erik paused, his emotions pouring forth. I felt it with every ounce of my being, even before he thought the words. “I love you, Tals. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
Tears pooled in my eyes. “I love you, too.”
For several long minutes, I simply laid there and thought about Erik. Sure, I could have stayed in his head; I could’ve followed him to the meeting and lived vicariously through him. But it would undoubtedly only intensify my longing to be with him.
Besides, I had other issues that needed my attention. I needed to uncover something in the mess of articles, reports, and files that shed light on the odd situation in France. Otherwise, un-chaperoned visits with my boyfriend might not be in my immediate future.
Wiping the tears away, I sat up and reached for a folder from the stack on the floor beside my bed. This one was marked Abductions. Determined to distract myself from thoughts of Erik, I settled in with my back against the wall and began to peruse the contents.
The first item was another police report. It sparked my interest immediately, mostly because it wasn’t yet another obligatory report of livestock theft. Given its apparent irrelevance, I probably should have cast the report aside. Nonetheless, it was by far the most intriguing thing I’d read all day.
The complainant was a Canadian woman, Zinca Lupo, who claimed her daughter had been abducted nearly a year ago from their family home in Alberta. The authorities had seen it differently. When it came to the disappearance of a fourte
en-year-old girl who was craving independence—she’d been some sort of child actor, so the police assumed this was the case—without any signs of foul play, the case was deemed just another runaway by the Canadian police. Given their disinterest, Mrs. Lupo hired a private investigator. The PI found a witness claiming to have seen the girl leaving a private airfield ten miles outside of Besançon, France. Supposedly this witness recognized the young girl from the wallscreen, given her status as a minor celebrity.
I studied the picture that Mrs. Lupo had provided to the French police. The girl was tall for her age and extremely pretty, though not familiar to me in the least. My lack of recognition was no surprise, though, since I wasn’t exactly up-to-date on pop culture.
Setting the image aside, I continued on with the report, my chest aching for the mother with each word I read.
The officers were initially wary of Mrs. Lupo’s allegations, due to her “hysterical nature” and the fact she was “not in-touch with reality.” Granted, she’d insisted that Minotaur kidnappers invaded her home and stole her daughter from bed. Before the Talented, her story would’ve sounded as fantastical as unicorns or world peace. But given everything I’d seen, including both morphing abilities and perception manipulation, it was certainly possible she was telling the truth. Mrs. Lupo also believed that Mr. Lupo was complacent in the abduction, claiming that he’d told her the girl’s abduction was for the good of the family.
“Yikes,” I breathed aloud, wondering where the truth of the situation lay. “What an ass.”
Mr. Lupo urged his wife not to contact the authorities in Canada, threatening to divorce her and take the family’s sizable fortune should she defy him. This had then prompted Mrs. Lupo to hire the aforementioned private investigator instead.
When the PI found the witness in France claiming to have seen the daughter, Mrs. Lupo hopped on a plane to Besançon immediately. She’d gone straight to the French police, expecting their help looking for her daughter. Instead, because of the mother’s allegations of half-human, half-beast kidnappers—I had a sneaking suspicion that it was also because Mr. Lupo was an internationally known and respected vid director—the authorities placed Mrs. Lupo on a seventy-two hour mental health hold at the jail.
