by A. Blythe
"Then how do you expect me to eat?"
“I’m supposed to feed you." He took the lid off the plate to reveal roast chicken with a side of carrots and broccoli. I was reminded of the story of Hansel and Gretel, where the witch fed them candy to fatten them up for cooking. This wholesome meal was not for my benefit.
“Are solid foods really a good idea?” I asked.
“A good idea and quite necessary. Your body needs it.”
“How long have I been here?" More importantly, was anyone coming to help me? Had Farah made it home?
“I’m not in a position to give you that information," he said. "My boss is very strict. I'm sure you can understand."
I understood. Vito would kill this guy for disobeying orders. The problem was that I would kill this guy to get out. I wondered if he knew how precarious the situation was.
"I'm very thirsty," I said. "Could I please have a drink of water?"
“Of course.” He lifted the jug and began to pour water into a glass. As he moved toward the bed with the glass of water, I jerked my body as hard as I could under the guise of a muscle spasm. He knocked against the edge of the bed and the glass crashed against the metal side, shattering into fragments. Water droplets sprayed my body.
"I'm so sorry," he said, glancing around at the mess. "I can get you another glass. Let me call someone to clean this up.”
"It was my fault," I said. "I got a cramp, probably because of the restraints."
He looked at the restraints and sighed. "I'll speak to someone about loosening them. I'll be back in a minute." He paused and turned back to me. “I’d tell you not to go anywhere, but I think we both know you’re stuck here for the time being."
I wore a mournful expression and turned my gaze toward the ceiling.
The moment he left the room, I spread my fingers as wide as I could, trying to grasp one of the larger glass fragments and pull it toward me. I strained against the restraints. I knew I didn't have much time before someone returned. Either my new friend or an orderly to clean up the glass. There was every chance someone was watching me from an undisclosed location, so I tried to keep my movements subtle and my expression neutral.
I felt one of the larger pieces and covered it with my hand just as an orderly came into the room with a broom and dustpan. Quickly, I slid the piece of glass under the back of my thigh.
"I understand there was a bit of an accident," he said good-naturedly. "Let me get this mess out of your way so you can enjoy a solid meal."
How did Vito manage to hire such decent people to work here? Did they not know what really went on? I had to know.
"What's your name?" I asked.
When he smiled, I noticed he was missing one of his canines. "Hector."
"How long have you worked here, Hector?"
He began sweeping up the debris. "About seven months, I think. A cousin of mine hooked me up. It's hard to find work as a convicted felon."
Got it.
“What were you in for?”
I expected him to proclaim his innocence and rage against a broken system. Instead, he simply said, “I stole a car and accidentally killed a pedestrian during the getaway. A grandmother. Her name was Agnes.”
Hector went about his business, gathering all of the fragments into the dustpan except the one hidden under my leg.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He looked at me in surprise. “For me? Why? I was a horrible person. It’s Agnes and her family you should be sorry for.”
There was no way this guy was caught in Vito’s sphere of evil influence.
“I guess you were desperate for work,” I said.
“I was, and I was so relieved to get this job. I didn’t want to go back to a life of crime, you know? They seem to do a lot of good work here, fixing people. I hope whatever you're doing here works out for you."
So did I.
"Thank you, Hector. It's none of my business, but if another job opportunity comes your way anytime soon, I suggest that you take it."
He eyed me curiously. "Know something I don't?"
"Just a hunch."
Once he had all the pieces in the dustpan, he hobbled out of the room. I quickly set to work, reaching for the sharp fragment and sawing awkwardly at the restraint. If I could get one hand free, that was all I needed. The rest would be easy. Unfortunately, it was difficult to slice at the restraint without also slicing my skin. I felt droplets of blood on my arm. It didn't matter. I had to stay focused. I didn't have long before someone returned to the room. I felt the material coming apart. I wiggled my wrist and felt it loosening. Just a little bit more. Footsteps in the hall stopped me. I held my breath, waiting to see if someone was coming in or just passing by. I heard voices and then the footsteps continued past my room. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued hacking away at the material. Almost there. One more slice and my hand was free. I yanked and pulled at all of the wires and ripped out the IV. Then I moved to get rid of the rest of the restraints. I released my other hand first, then my ankles. If anyone was watching me on a security camera, it was pretty obvious now that I was loose. I'd have to move quickly. I hurried to the doorway and peeked around the corner. The coast was clear. If I turned right, that would take me to the heart of the hospital. I didn't want that. Left was my only option. I ran down the hall as fast as I could, but I quickly discovered that my body was still weak. It was bad enough that I didn't have access to my powers. Right now I didn't even have access to my full human strength. Still, this was my one chance to escape and I wasn't going to waste it.
A man rushed from one of the side doors, brandishing a gun. Apparently, my secret was out.
"Stop," he yelled.
Fat chance.
I kept on running. My gut told me that Vito warned them not to shoot me. He wouldn't have bothered to hook me up to a bunch of tubes and wires if he'd wanted me dead. I didn't know what his intentions were or why he had me poked and probed, but I was pretty sure the orders were to bring me back alive. Vito was a monster of epic proportions. I recognized this fact in our very first meeting. It wasn't a coincidence that he controlled organ trafficking. I suspected that he enjoyed it. The torture. Playing God. This enterprise suited him more than gambling or weapons ever could.
Shots rang out behind me. A scare tactic. I was easily within range. If he'd wanted to hit me, he would have. I kept moving. I reached the stairwell and ran up another flight. I knew they would expect me to go down. I had no idea what awaited me on the next level up, but it didn't matter. I had nowhere else to go.
I flung open the door to the next level and was greeted by my old friend, NFL. He held one of my yantoks in his hand, tapping it gently against his leg.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me,” I said.
“Your dignity?”
“Good effort,” I said. “Now give me my stick and I’ll be on my way.”
He pretended to examine the weapon. “Who fights with a stick anyway?”
I ignored his question. “Where’s the other one? I have two.”
He pulled the other yantok from inside his pants. Yuck. “You mean this one?” He grinned. “I was using it to scratch my balls. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind, but they do.”
I lunged for him and he raised the stick over his head, swinging down in one swift motion. I ducked and dodged, popping up long enough to give him a good kick in the groin. He staggered backward but remained standing. He whipped the stick at my head again, but I managed to avoid contact. A hard cross to his face followed by a roundhouse kick did no damage at all. It was like fighting a Redwood tree. As he brought the yantok down again, I grabbed hold of it with both hands.
“Release,” I hissed.
The stick glowed yellow and I pushed with all of my strength. This time he lost his balance, stumbling. At the last second, he caught himself on the wall and launched himself at me again. He grabbed me by the waist like he was sacking his opponent on the foot
ball field and lifted me up and over his shoulder. I clawed at his back with my free hand, drawing blood. He ran with me straight into the wall and slammed my lower back and legs against the hard surface. Pain shot through me and I slumped to the floor. His foot came down heavy on my knee. Something cracked. What I lacked in physical strength, I used to make up for in magical power. I simply did not have the physical ability to defeat this guy. What I did have, of course, was my yantok, imbued with Pinky’s magic. It was enough.
As his foot loomed in front of my face, I ducked my head to the side. He made impact with the wall instead, his foot becoming lodged in the plaster.
“Burn,” I said, and pressed the glowing yantok into his spine. He screamed and writhed, unable to release his foot from the wall. I took the opportunity to grab the other yantok. “Like I said, these are mine.”
I dragged myself down the corridor. One good leg was enough to get me out of here. I hobbled to the nearest window, clutching my weapons. As I lifted a stick to break the glass of the window, the stairwell door flew open. I braced myself for another fight.
“Alyse!”
“Crap on a stick, Reed. What took you so long?”
“I’ll tell you later. Were you planning to jump out the window?”
“If I said yes, would you question my sanity?”
He came over to the window. “I question your sanity every day.”
“I take it we’re not walking out the front door,” I said.
“Probably best to take a shortcut.” He peered out the window. “How would you feel about being carried over the threshold?”
My pulse quickened as noise from the stairwell drifted down the corridor.
“I think I’d agree to anything right now.”
His mouth quirked. “I’ll try not to take advantage of the situation.” He plucked a yantok from my hand and used it to break the pane of glass. The stairwell door swung open.
He scooped me into his arms. “Ready?”
A bullet whizzed past us.
He made a running start and leaped to the window ledge.
“Will you be offended if I close my eyes?” It was different when I was shifting to mist and drifting to the ground. This time my life was literally in someone else’s hands.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” he asked, as we sailed off the ledge.
My stomach dipped as we dropped to the ground below. He landed on his feet with the grace of a cat, still holding me.
“Wow,” I said, gazing up at him. “I guess that’s why you’re so good at rescuing kittens from trees.”
Bullets rained down on us from above and he began to run at Naphil speed.
“To be fair,” he said. “The kittens aren’t usually being shot at.”
10
It was only after I returned to the apartment that I discovered the reason for the delay in rescuing me.
Farah was in bed, in the process of being assessed by a young healer named Herb. Apparently on her way back to the Prius in fox form, she’d been hit by a passing car. She managed to shift back to her human form but passed out in the car before waking up the next morning and driving home. When she called Reed, he raced to the hospital but still insisted on sending a healer over to the apartment to check on Farah.
“How’s she looking, Herb?” Reed asked.
“I’m fine,” Farah said. “I’m not the one cuffed, remember? My healing abilities are fully intact.”
“Then why did you ask me to double-check your abdomen?” Herb queried.
She gave him a flirtatious wink. “Because your hands are warm.”
“So Lana needs a break from us, huh?” I asked.
“I didn’t call Lana,” Reed said. “Herb is an excellent healer at the beginning of his career. I thought he could use the practice.”
My turn was next. I reclined on my bed while Herb examined me. He popped my kneecap back into place and ran his magical hands over me without touching me, like a metal detector.
“Any weirdness?” I asked.
Reed paced behind the sofa, eager for an update. He was convinced that Vito had removed all of my vital organs. How he thought I was still walking and talking, I had no idea.
“I don’t sense anything,” Herb said. “You say you were unconscious and woke up attached to tubes and wires?”
I nodded.
“Any pain or new scars?” he asked.
“No to both.”
“That rules out surgery then.” Herb scratched behind his ear. “Is there a chance he was trying to study you?”
It was a reasonable suggestion. If Vito was interested in playing God, studying a djinni trapped in human form wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
“What would he gain from studying Alyse?” Reed asked.
“Whatever he hoped to accomplish,” I said, “he didn’t keep me long enough to obtain the necessary data. He’d need a long-term subject for a decent analysis.”
Farah appeared in the doorway, holding Mikaela’s phone. “I thought you might want this.”
My heart melted. “You got hit by a car but managed to hang on to the phone?”
Farah shrugged. “It’s what best friends do.”
“One way or another, Mikaela was brought to that hospital,” I said. “I know it in my gut.”
“Her phone is dead,” Farah said. “If we get it to Mix, I’m sure he can work his magic on it so we can retrieve her text messages.”
Herb glanced at the phone. “Or I can work mine.” He plucked the phone from her hand. “I’m a healer by trade, but I’m also a mage with excellent training.”
I watched as he pressed the phone to his forehead and uttered a spell in Etruscan. The screen lit up and I fought the urge to jump out of bed and hug him.
“You’re the best, Herb,” I said.
He handed the phone to me. “Something to do while you’re on bed rest.”
“Ha!” Farah scoffed. “Bed rest will last twenty minutes with this one.”
“Not if I stand guard,” Reed said.
“You and what army?” I teased.
“I just jumped out of a building with you and carried you to safety,” Reed said. “Are you seriously going to give me a hard time?”
That tidbit grabbed Farah’s attention. “He carried you?”
“My knee,” I said weakly, embarrassed by the admission.
“Your knee will heal quickly if you give yourself a rest,” Herb said. “Get some sleep.”
Not likely. I began to scroll through Mikaela’s most recent text messages. It wasn’t difficult to confirm my theory. Her mother’s text messages were frequent and increasingly desperate.
“Mikaela arranged to meet her mother before dinner the day she disappeared,” I said, still reading.
“Where?” Reed asked.
“A corner not far from their house. She must have picked up Mikaela in a car and drove her to the hospital.”
“Does it sound like Mikaela knew what was going to happen?” Farah asked.
I shook my head. “No mention of organ donations or anything. Mikaela promised to help her mother, but that’s it.”
“What about the police?” Herb asked. “Should we alert them?”
I hated to rain on his optimistic parade. “The police aren’t really good in this kind of situation, Herb.”
“A human kidnapping?” He glanced at Reed for confirmation.
“It’s the crime syndicate,” Reed said. “The police aren’t equipped to deal with a guy like Vito.”
“So what then?” Herb asked. “How do you rescue the girl?”
I didn’t even want to float the possibility that Mikaela was already dead. Herb seemed like he might crumble at the suggestion. Excellent healer or not, he clearly needed more time in the field.
“Didn’t Pinky do a locator spell?” Farah asked. “Wouldn’t it have shown the hospital if that’s where she is?”
“Vito’s a professional,” I said. “He probably has some kind of blocking
spell set up for that very purpose.” It was one of the reasons the members of the crime syndicate were so eager to have their own mages.
“So the only option is to go back in,” Reed said. “I’ll take a team there this afternoon. They won’t be expecting us to return so quickly.”
“Reed, no,” I said. “Mikaela is my case.”
He gave me a stern look. “Mikaela is a human. What else is the Protectorate for if not to protect innocent humans like her?”
He had a point.
“If you raid that hospital, you’ll start a war with the crime syndicate,” I said. “That’s not good for anyone.” Not yet anyway. Vito’s time would come—I’d make certain of that.
“It’s not a raid,” Reed said. “As much as I’d like to rescue every person in there. We’ll go for one specific target. Mikaela.”
“He’ll have her under lock and key,” I said, assuming she was alive. “He knows I’m looking for her.”
He patted my shoulder. “Relax, Alyse. I’ve been doing my job for a long time.”
Of course he had. He was a captain in the Protectorate. Highly respected in the colony. I didn’t give him the credit he deserved.
I covered his hand with mine. “Good luck, Reed. Bring her home.”
As promised, Reed delivered Mikaela to her father later that afternoon. I knew how desperately he wanted to tell me that she was unscathed, but his somber tone of voice suggested otherwise. Still, she was alive and safe now.
“Are you sure you’re up for dinner tonight?” he asked. “You should probably still be resting.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “And I’m tired of staring at the wall of my room. I need a change of environment.”
“I can pick you up,” he offered.
“You’ll be busy cooking dinner. I’ll take the train. It’s not a problem.”
Thanks to Herb, my muscles and joints were back in working order. The pain was mostly gone, except for a dull ache in my lower back. Nothing that a little ibuprofen wouldn’t cure.
I showed up at Reed’s house wearing a dress that Farah described as tasteful yet slutty. I still wasn’t entirely sure why I’d arranged this date. I’d held Reed at arm’s length for so long that it felt strange to encourage him now. I couldn’t dismiss my feelings for him anymore, though. I didn’t want to. If I ever got my powers back, then we’d have to see how he reacted to the real me. Or maybe this was the real me. It was hard to tell anymore.
