by Lyra Evans
“So we came all this way for fucking nothing?” Niko said to no one in particular. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around Sade refusing to see him. Sade was all about control, all about gaining the upper-hand and exerting power, and more than anything, he’d want to face Niko directly, to press buttons to remind Niko of what he’d done to him. He would want—
As the realization hit him, Niko wiped his palm down his face, dragging the skin in frustration. Of course. Obviously. Fucking Sade.
“What did he say to you exactly?” Niko asked of the guard.
The guard blinked once or twice. “He said ‘Kiki needs a police escort to face me? No, thanks, I’m good right here,’ if I recall correctly, Sir.”
Shaking his head, Niko turned to Cobalt. “He won’t see me because I’m with someone,” he said. Cobalt’s eyebrows shifted up his forehead. “I have to go in alone.”
Cobalt turned briefly to the guard and said, “Excuse us one moment, please.” The guard nodded and went behind the glass-encased desk. Cobalt approached Niko and guided him over to the corner of the room furthest from the desk. Niko rolled his eyes. “Are you certain that’s advisable?”
Niko had expected this, but that didn’t mean it didn’t rankle him. “Don’t think I can be objective?”
Cobalt considered him a moment, his expression even. “If that were the case, would it not be reasonable? You questioned me on the same subject, after all.” Niko’s jaw shifted sideways, and he sucked on his cheek. Cobalt took that as an answer and continued, “In any case, that is not my reasoning. I was more concerned for your well-being.”
Niko didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t expecting it. “Why?”
Again, something clouded Cobalt’s eyes for a moment. If Niko examined it, he might have thought it was compassion mixed with a healthy dose of disbelief, but he didn’t think on it.
“You suffered untold abuse at the hands of this man, case or no case,” he said in an undertone. “We’ve been here barely a few minutes, and he is already trying to exert control over the situation. He clearly wants to continue to harm you in whatever way he can, and while I’m sure you are capable of defending yourself both mentally and physically, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to try.”
Something cracked inside Niko, just a hair, and for a moment his throat was tight. Why did any of this matter to Cobalt? He didn’t know Niko. Not really. They’d only just met. And they were partnered for this case, but even their professional relationship would end once they caught Indigo’s killer. Why did he care so much? And given the way the grey of Cobalt’s eyes turned silver, flecked with blue and green, like a storm parting to the open seas, Niko was certain Cobalt did care.
Eyes to the ground, unable to maintain Cobalt’s gaze, Niko swallowed against the lump in his throat. His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, as he said, “I need to do this. I need to show him—”
But Niko couldn’t finish the sentence. He cut off, looking far away as his vision would allow without turning away from Cobalt. The Selkie seemed to understand him, though.
“If you’re certain,” Cobalt said. “I’d like to watch the interview, if possible, though. From a security room, or whatever is appropriate. You will still be alone, but perhaps you will feel less so.”
Niko considered this, pushing his moment of vulnerability aside. He nodded tightly, turning back to the guard behind the glass. He knocked on the surface to draw his attention.
“Go tell him I’ll see him alone,” Niko said. The guard nodded and disappeared further into the prison. Another guard at the desk, a woman with orange hair neatly tied in a bun, got to her feet and moved around the side to let Niko in. “Can my partner here watch us from another room? You have security cameras, I imagine?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said. “We’ve got a system set up in one of the interrogation rooms. I’ll show you to the security desk where the feeds come up,” she said to Cobalt. He smiled and nodded at her in thanks, and her cheeks flushed a very soft pink.
Placing his gun and his cellphone into a small bin by the weapons detector, Niko emptied his pockets of anything that might cause it to ring. Then he stepped through. Like walking under a finely trickling waterfall, the veil of magic contained within the detector passed over him. It left his skin tingling and his hair slightly static, but nothing beeped as he made it to the other side.
Cobalt emptied his pockets, placing his knife in the bin provided to him, and followed Niko through. The machine immediately began wailing like an overly tired toddler. Cobalt froze on the other side, waiting for instruction from the guard. She looked at the readings, confused.
Turning to look at him, she asked, “Anything in your pockets?” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I have to pat you down.” He nodded slightly and her cheeks darkened in colour. She went about the pat-down with professionalism, eyes focused on the task and nothing else. She came up empty, though, and pulled out a more personal scanner. Swiping it over him it beeped loudly at his neck and over his chest. Niko watched, his mind working. Was the Soul Stone causing the issue? It contained Cobalt’s Soul, as Niko understood it, and at least some of his magical essence. Perhaps the concentration of magic in it made it read as a possible threat? Like carrying in a magical grenade?
“He’s obviously not got a weapon hidden in his neck,” Niko said, hoping to distract from the Soul Stone. They had not mentioned Cobalt was a Selkie, and he wasn’t sure now was the time to do it. The guard turned to him and nodded.
“Maybe a malfunction,” she said, still clearly unsure. “But we’re just going down the hall, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Thank you,” Cobalt said, directing a nod to the guard while his eyes met Niko’s. She smiled slightly and pulled out a pair of black cuffs, turning back to Niko.
Niko eyed the cuffs. “Those aren’t for me,” he said.
She shrugged sheepishly. “Protocol, I’m afraid,” she said. “Anyone coming into direct contact with an inmate needs to wear magic-suppressing cuffs.”
Niko held out his wrists to her. She began fastening the thin leather cuffs to his wrists. They were adored with resilient metal bands marked with runes that worked against his natural magic. While wearing these, he’d be unable to make any deals or trades, even with himself.
“Because I’m a danger to them,” Niko replied sarcastically.
The guard made the same apologetic face, fastening the second cuff. “You could be,” she said. “And I’m afraid they still have rights, inmates or not.”
Niko let his expression fall to a deadpan. He shook his arms slightly wearing the cuffs, getting a feel for them. They had the unfortunate side-effect of looking a lot like the cuffs he’d worn to the pleasure club. Sade would certainly get a kick out of that. Oak and Ash, this was a mess.
The guard showed them down a long hallway that opened beyond another locked gate. Her hand to a screen by the gate caused it to open with an angry ring. They followed down the hallway, the décor giving way to institutional bland, all off-whites, greys, and beiges. There were doors lining the hall with nameplates, presumably various administrative offices for the prison. One door had no mark on it at all, nor even a handle, and she stopped there, opening it with a palm to the surface. The door clicked.
“This is the security centre. Access to the feeds from the whole of the prison complex and the outer-perimeter gates and doors. Please don’t press any buttons. Officer Hazel will see to it you have anything you need.”
An older woman with hair as pale as Cobalt’s looked up at him through the open door. She waggled an eyebrow upon seeing him, her eyes flashing, and Niko wondered if Cobalt was ever bothered by his effect on people.
“Welcome to my office, Mr….?” she asked.
“Sincloud,” he said simply, smiling at her and taking a seat next to her. Niko shook his head as the door closed behind them, and they continued down the hall. There was another barred gate at the end, and the first guard they’d spoken with s
tood on the other side of it.
“You were right, Detective,” he said when Niko approached. “He’s in the interrogation room now. I’ll take you there. I’ll also be waiting just outside the door in case you need anything or he gets unruly.”
Niko nodded as the female guard opened the gate to let him through. She waited in position until they were past the threshold, then closed the gate behind them. This part of the prison was colder than the waiting room had been, the stone walls closer and more overwhelming. The carefully neutral tones of the place did nothing to assuage the discomfort Niko felt progressing down halls lined with bars and runes inscribed into the floors at every junction. A blue line drew the way down the hall and past another gate, this one much larger and more intimidating. He assumed this was a line for prisoners to follow, to keep their heads down and still know where to go. The thought didn’t settle in Niko.
The guard stopped at a barred door without a handle. There was simply a screen of sorts on the surface. A tinted window Niko suspected was a two-way mirror was next to the door and showed a man in an orange jumpsuit that clashed horribly with his pale lavender hair. He was seated with his back to the window, but Niko still recognized him. This glimpse of Sade, in his rightful place behind bars and paying for his crimes, still caused a tensing in Niko’s stomach. He brushed it off. He would be fine.
“A few rules,” the guard said. “Protocol. Do not touch the inmate, nor for any reason remove his cuffs or chains. You’re wearing the cuffs, so it shouldn’t be a problem, but you are under no circumstances permitted to make a deal or trade with the inmate. Also, if the inmate requests a guard at any time, or a lawyer, he is entitled to fulfilment of that request. You are to stop the interrogation should that occur. If the inmate becomes belligerent or dangerous, we reserve the right to interrupt the proceedings for both your safety and the safety of the inmate. Do you understand?”
Niko nodded. “I do,” he said. He felt less certain now he was standing outside the door than he had been in the waiting room with Cobalt. But there was no turning back. Sade had information they needed. And Niko had beaten Sade at his own game before. He could do it again. He would.
The guard swiped his hand at the screen on the door and the bars pulled back, the door opening to allow Niko in. With a glance at the security cameras in the corners of the room, Niko tried not to feel a sense of relief that Cobalt was watching.
Shedding all his outside insecurities and concerns, Niko called up the defiant confidence he’d embodied as ‘Kiran’ and stepped into the room. The door slid shut behind him, the bars locking back into place and the warding reforming. He was locked in the room now just as much as Sade was, and for a brief moment, Niko realized Sade was in more danger than he’d previously thought. If it weren’t for the cuffs at his wrists, Niko could have done whatever he pleased with Sade at his mercy. Sure, the guard would be inside in seconds. But Niko could accomplish a whole lot in seconds.
He shook off the thought, the loathing bubbling in his chest like a boiling oil spill. If he took too deep a breath, his lungs touched the fiery mess of his rage and would climb up his throat until it engulfed him entirely. With slow, deliberate steps, he made his way around the table to the opposite side where a chair was still available. Sade made no effort to turn around to see him, but Niko knew he would already be smiling when he saw his face.
And he was. But as Niko stared down the man before him, he found it difficult to reconcile this image with the one of Sade from that first day Niko had met him. The lavender hair that had been so thick and carefully coiffed in the outside world was now dishevelled and unkempt. A thick, knotty scar ran upward from his right eyebrow over his scalp, parting the hair to either side of it like a bit of lightning-struck land—dead and no longer fertile. His skin was a sallow, yellow-tinged peach, like overripe fruit, where he’d once had the bronze, sun-kissed look unique to Maeve’s Court. His thick muscles were much the same, though perhaps slightly swollen now, with no other demands on his time. The lines of his face had deepened, drawing shadows in to match his near-black eyes. His smile was uneven and unpleasant. It cut across his face like a slash, revealing his nicotine-stained teeth.
For a long moment, Niko did not sit and did not speak. He stared down his one-time nemesis and was struck by how much smaller he seemed in reality than in Niko’s memory. Sade took his own time to study Niko, to take him in in as vulgar a way as he could manage. He let his eyes rove slowly over what he could see of Niko’s frame, lingering certain places longer than others. When he made his way back up to Niko’s face, he ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth and the inner waterline of his lips, as though preparing to taste him. Niko fought the instinctual shudder that threatened to run down his spine.
“Hello, Kiki,” Sade said, apparently deciding taking charge of the conversation was more important than the battle of wills silence created. He sucked on his inner cheek. “Did you miss me?” Niko’s expression was unchanged as he stared at Sade. He didn’t cross his arms, nor did he take a seat. He simply stared Sade down, his face impassive, unimpressed. Sade sucked on his canine tooth. Then, feigning realization, he said, “Right, right, I forgot. You’re Niko Spruce, now. Not Kiki.” He gave Niko a baleful smile. “My bad.” Niko moved very slightly, and Sade’s eyes travelled to the glinting badge at his waist. “Officer Niko Spruce. Has a certain ring to it. Like the sound a small animal makes.” He pretended to think about it. “Like a rat or a weasel.”
Niko allowed himself to smile very slightly, the corners of his mouth just barely upturned. All he said in response was, “Detective.”
Sade raised his eyebrows. “Detective?” He tilted his head, squinting. “Moving up, I guess. Though I’d’ve thought someone with your type of ambition would be a Sergeant already.” He crossed his arms, flexing as he did. “What’s the problem, Kiki? No other sex trafficking rings for you to bring down?”
Niko’s eyes flashed, but he said nothing to this. Instead, he waited Sade out, holding his gaze for a five count. Sade eventually started ogling him again.
“Do you know why I’m here?” Niko asked, pulling the words out lightly, as though it could be for any reason at all and he was in no hurry.
Sade shrugged. “I expected you sooner, to be honest,” he said. Niko raised one brow in question, and Sade leaned over the table, a wolfish smile on his face. Niko reminded himself Sade’s hands were bound and chained to a hook beneath his side of the table. “I’m not your average fuck. Hard to forget once you’ve had me. But you know what I’m talking about.”
Niko’s throat tightened, but his expression remained stony. “No, you didn’t quite make it to ‘average,’” Niko said, and Sade briefly bristled before leaning back. His smile was tinted with anger now.
“You’re a damn good liar, Kiki,” he said, considering him with as close to earnestness as Sade could get. “Must be why they sent you to me in the first place. But I know the truth. You can testify all you want about the ‘abuse’ I put you through, about how I ‘raped’ you. But you can’t lie to me. I was there too, when you were flat out for me, begging and moaning as I whipped you and fucked you. You wanted every second of it.”
Niko felt his entire body turn to steel, his mind sharp as a diamond blade and his torso fully involved in the flames of his hatred. He had to stop himself reaching forward and pressing his hands to Sade’s neck, to stamp out the airflow and rid the world of him completely. He had to stop himself reaching up to turn off the cameras. Instead, he made a face as though confused.
“Weird,” he said. “I don’t remember you ever asking for consent.”
Sade waved him off with a shake of his head. Niko had never discussed the details of his experiences with Sade except in closed testimony for court. He’d never referred to what happened to him as rape or sexual assault or anything else except in the courtroom. In fact, he’d just stopped Cobalt using the same words to describe his experience, claiming he’d been in control at all times. There wa
s something deeply wrong and deeply ridiculous about discussing it now, in those terms, with Sade himself. And all the while, Cobalt was watching.
“I don’t remember you saying ‘no,’” Sade responded.
“Would it have mattered?” Niko asked. He was certain of the answer but asked anyway. Sade met his eyes, a kind of pleasure in his look Niko didn’t like.
He said it quietly, without moving his mouth much. It was unclear whether the cameras caught it, but Niko certainly did. “No.”
Honesty was what Niko was looking for. He pulled out his chair in a slow but smooth motion. Seating himself, he looked at Sade across the table, more as equals now than when he walked in. Sade studied him as he acted, drawing his own conclusions. As Sade adjusted himself, the chains attached to his cuffs clinked a staccato note through the hook beneath the table. The metallic sound echoed in the small room and reverberated into Niko’s chest.
“How’d you get the scar?” Niko asked, looking for an angle of approach. The knotted scar rooted in Sade’s eyebrow was new to his face, though it lent some credibility to the danger he posed. Sade had never looked particularly violent or dangerous at first glance. Maybe it was the lavender hair, or the way he maintained himself—muscular but lean—before he was locked up. But now, with the scar and the enlarged muscles, he was fooling no one.
Eyes narrowed, Sade said, “A misunderstanding when I arrived. I saw to it.” He made a face as though to brush off the question.
“A misunderstanding,” Niko repeated. “Who misunderstood you?”
“No one who matters anymore,” Sade said simply, and Niko smiled, a dark edge to his expression.
“You let yourself get cut by no names?” Niko asked, pressing down on the last. He bit his lip as though to fight laughter. Sade’s anger flared, the first clear emotion in his eyes.
“Never said they were no names,” Sade snapped.
Niko gave him a pitying stare. “But they were. The big names didn’t care when you were marched in, did they?”
