The elf scowls at me, but I’m already walking away. At least he doesn’t call out to me, but he’s not the only inmate to heckle me. A few just want to talk, and I feel terrible that they feel so lonely.
After I sneak past the silent banshee who isn’t crying because she’s asleep, I reach the siren’s wing. I remember clearly the warning, to not go near the wing unless I have earbuds, but I'm a witch, a powerful one. That's not bragging because it's the truth. No siren is going to control me.
I take a few more cautious steps. There’s no singing, no talking at all, and I pass the first few cells. They’re all empty.
Just then, I see one. A male siren. I guess that makes sense. There have to be male ones, not just females, but I've always thought of sirens as females before.
He has long, green hair that’s almost spiky on top and in the back. He pushes away from the back wall he’d been leaning against, and he stalks toward me, his every movement graceful.
“Well, well, it looks like we have a new fish,” he says.
I shake my head. “I’m not an inmate.”
“You’re a guard? Aren’t you a little young?”
I scowl. “You don’t look much older than I am!”
“I’m twenty-four.” He appraises me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“No? Why is that? Are you going to try to force me to do your bidding?”
“And do what?” he asks bitterly. “There’s nothing for me here.”
“No?” I eye him. “Who are you? What did you do?”
“That’s just it.” The siren scowls. “I don’t even know.”
“How can you not know?" I ask incredulously. His expression, his words, his tone… I think I might actually believe him, but… “Wasn’t there a trial? Even if you don’t remember what happened, your actions should’ve been discussed at the trial.”
My heart begins to beat faster. There has to be a judge and jury type deal, right? A magical judiciary system? I know HEX U seeks out and has us hunt down evil paranormal creatures, but wouldn’t a person have to be tried before coming here to the prison?
Then again, paranormal slayers and executioners don’t rely on a jury to tell them what to do.
“I can help you remember,” I blurt out.
“What if I don’t want to remember?” he asks.
“What if I want to know?”
“What are you going to do, witch? Get in my head?”
I nod. “But only if you’ll let me.”
He steps closer, and the harsh artificial light above my head gives him a slightly silver look. The siren is a lot stronger than I thought he would be. He’s not a lithe, slender man.
“My name is Echol, but you might as well forget about me. They aren’t going to let me out from behind these bars anytime soon.”
“My name is Mirella, and there’s something you need to know about me.”
He lifts his eyebrows.
“I tend to do the opposite of what people tell me to do, so no, I’m not going to forget about you. I think you should know why you’re in here. I won’t go into your head unless you give me permission to, and I understand if you don’t want me to, but—”
“Do it.”
“Are you sure?”
He gives a tight nod.
I close my eyes and reach out with my magic toward Echol. He resists my magical presence at first, but I keep pushing ever so slightly, and eventually, I worm my way inside.
His mind is cluttered, filled with all sorts of memories, but there’s one feeling that is dominating everything within him.
I’m innocent! I’m innocent! I’m—
How many inmates claim their innocent? How many actually are?
At least for now, it seems as if this siren might be the only prisoner here who actually is innocent.
Great. What do I do with this knowledge now?
Chapter Three
The siren tilts his head to the side. “Well?” he demands. “What did you see?”
“You believe you’re innocent,” I murmur.
Lucas scowls. “No. I don’t just believe I’m innocent. I am innocent! Did you see what the crime was?”
“How could I when you’re innocent?”
He deliberately blinks. “Wait. Does that mean…”
“Yes. I believe you.”
Lucas looks so relieved. His shoulders relax as if a weight’s been lifted. “You believe me,” he repeats softly.
“I do, and now, I need you to concentrate. Are you certain there’s nothing at all that you know about the crime?”
He’s happiness fades away as he slowly shakes his head. “I’ve been in here for a few months now. Trust me. All I’ve done is try to remember.”
“Is there a portion of your memory that is gone? A blankness?” I persist.
“I—”
“What is going on here?” a loud voice booms.
I jump and step away from Lucas’ cell. “Who’s there?”
A guard marches toward me. Another is hot on his tail.
The first glowers at me. “I’m going to have to ask you to back away from that cell,” he says firmly.
I swallow hard, not liking the way he’s giving me orders. He’s another angel, just like Portia, but he seems almost too gruff.
I hold up my hands to show I’m defenseless even though I’m really not. “Hello, guards. I was just—”
“She’s not wearing earbuds,” the second says to the first.
They both are, but the first seems to hear the second just fine.
“You need to get away from that cell,” he insists. “Immediately.”
“You don’t understand. He’s innocent!”
Lucas just shakes his head. “Mirella…”
“He’s tampering with her mind,” the second says.
“He broke the rules.” The first nods. “You know what that means.”
“What does that mean?” I cry as the two guards step forward, brushing past me and fiddling with Lucas’ cell. “What are you doing?”
Without any more words, the guards open the cell and grab the siren’s arms. Just like that, they carry Lucas away.
“Where are you taking him?” I demand, chasing behind them.
Echol is gagged, but I peek into his mind. Maybe I shouldn’t, but…
Echol, I’m sorry. I don’t know where they’re taking you.
Solitary, Mirella.
I gasp and halt for so long I have to run to catch up to the guards.
“There’s no reason for you to put him into solitary!” I shout loud enough that the guards should be able to hear me, but they don’t react at all.
I grab one's arm and slide to step in front of him, blocking his path. "Stop," I mouth because, at this point, they can't hear me, so why talk out loud?
“Get your hand off me,” he growls. “If you do not, you will have it removed.”
As in pushed away so I’m not touching him anymore? Or removed as in hand chopped off like they do in some parts of the world? I’m not even sure why my mind went there. Maybe it’s because I’m in a prison, and I can’t help feeling a bit like a prisoner myself.
I release the guard, but I don’t move. “Put him back in his cell.”
“You need to let us do our job,” the other guard says.
“No.”
I wince at the sound of Portia’s voice. The angel walks toward us, her iridescent armor glowing in the dim light.
“No. Mirella is one of you for the week. As a guard, as the one who has been interacting with the inmate, don’t you think she should be the one to place him in solitary?”
I gape at the angel. “No. Please. No. You don’t understand. He’s innocent!”
“And you don’t understand that he’s gotten into your head,” Portia says calmly. “Now, either you put the siren into solitary, or else you will fail, and do you know what failure means, Mirella Sharpe?”
I shake my head.
“It means that you will not become a par
anormal executioner. Which do you value more? Your dream of following in your parents’ footsteps? Or the ‘freedom’ of an inmate who convinced two teenagers to kill each other?”
My jaw drops.
“Oh, he didn’t tell you what his crime was?” Portia asks sweetly.
I exhale and shake my head. My mouth opens to defend him, to explain that he didn’t even know what his crime was, but it’s pointless. I realize that now.
You don’t need to throw your future away for me.
But, Echol—
I don’t blame you. Besides, I’ve been in solitary before. It’s not that bad.
I open my mouth, about to answer him verbally before I catch myself.
The guards step away, and I secure a hand on the siren’s arm. I wish I didn’t recall the way to solitary from the tour earlier, but I do, and I march us along.
How is it ‘not that bad’?
I get to sing, and no one can stop me.
Despite my nerves and anxiety about getting him in more trouble, I grin. I can hear the smile in his thought.
But when I shut him inside the solitary confinement cell, I’m frowning. Lucas doesn’t belong in here, and I’m only a prison guard for a week. Seven days. That’s all the time I have to prove his innocence.
I’ll do my best.
Chapter Four
For a long moment, I stare at the closed door. There’s a sheen of magic covering it, and I know that means occupants can’t use magic. It doesn’t stop me from attempting to communicate with Lucas again.
But I can’t. It’s as if beyond the door is a void. No matter. I can leave in the morning, once my night shift is over, and I can try to locate his family. I doubt there will be any reports of the crime in the papers. The supernatural community is excellent at keeping things under wrap.
Portia clears her throat. “Mirella, I do believe there is one matter I forgot to tell you earlier. You are not allowed to leave the ground for the entire week that you are to serve as a guard here.”
“But what about sleeping? And showering?”
“Surely you can sleep and shower at locations other than your home,” the angel says dryly.
I scowl. “Yes, of course I can,” I mumble.
“Once your shift is over, Regale will show you to your room.”
“It’s not a cell, is it?” I ask, but Portia is already marching away.
For the rest of my shift, I just wander the floors, humming a tune. It’s only as I enter my room that I realize the tune I’m humming is When the Saints Go Marching In.
How ironic.
By the way, my room is essentially a cell without the bars. I should be exhausted after the hours of walking, but I’m too anxious and worried for Lucas’ sake. How can I help him if I can’t leave? I can’t even talk to him!
Not that he even knew what crime he had committed.
Had he committed it, though? Was it his voice that compelled those teenagers to kill himself? If so, how can he be innocent?
If someone else compelled him to do it…
But why? If the unknown party, the one truly responsible, could have made the teenagers kill themselves, why bother to involve Lucas?
A vendetta against Lucas. Someone who hates sirens. An enemy of his parents. There is any number of reasons why someone might want to pin the murders on Lucas because the teenagers hadn't committed suicide. They might have done the deed themselves, but it hadn't been by choice.
At the orphanage, we weren’t given a lot of access to pop culture, but I still know about the fairy tales. I read all of the classics to the younger orphans. Out of all of them, Sleeping Beauty had always been the one to stick out at me the most. Maleficent, I always thought, was the most evil out of all of the villains. Why? Because she took away Aurora’s ability to make choices, to live her life. Maleficent controlled her by putting her under that cursed sleep.
If there’s one thing I cannot abide, it’s being confined and limited. I need my freedom. I need to fail, make mistakes, try again, and possibly, eventually succeed.
And I won’t let Lucas bear the consequences of another. He’s innocent, and I will figure out a way to help him.
But a day passes and another, and I’m no closer to figuring out how to prove Lucas’ innocence. It’s clear that he won’t be released from solitary during the length of my time here, and my week is rapidly evaporating.
The next night, I pace, unable to sleep. I can’t sleep, won’t sleep, not until I determine a plan of action more than asking a few of the inmates about Lucas.
My feet keep stepping even though I’m not concentrating on pacing. I’m almost in a trance—
A trance. That’s it!
I blame the lack of candles in the prison for my failure to think of this earlier, but I don’t need candles to enter a trance.
Without hesitating, I sit on the cold, hard ground of the room and close my eyes. My mind clears, and I even out my breathing. I focus my thoughts on Lucas the siren, on the crime he's been charged with, and on the two teenagers murdered by the unknown entity I desperately need my magic to reveal to me.
Eventually, I see a black that isn’t from my shut eyelids. Within the darkness, a shape forms. A man stands before me. The darkness seems to recede within him, as if he’s a black hole, but no. A black hole sucks in light, not darkness.
The more I watch, the more I can see the man more clearly, and I think I’m beginning to understand. He’s darkness himself.
His complexion isn't like any I've ever seen before. Considering all kinds of paranormal creatures went to Magical Hunters Academy with me, I've seen most everything. Not this, though. He has a slight reddish tint to his skin. His teeth are long, revealed by his terrible smile, and his eyes are so cruel that I can't see their color.
A demon. He’s a demon.
My trance ends, and I rub my arms briskly. Although the prison isn’t too hot or too cold, I’m covered in goosebumps.
A demon makes perfect sense. The true villain has to be an evil paranormal creature, a powerful one at that to be able to either “borrow” a siren’s voice or else force one to use his voice without the siren’s knowledge. Can demons entrance another? That wouldn’t surprise me.
So, I’m looking for a demon. Isn’t that just wonderful? And how am I going to find this particular one?
Well, I’m in a prison, after all. There has to be at least one demon here. I’ll just have to talk to him or her. Do demons run in tight circles, or do they always act alone? I’m hoping against hope that I can discover who this particular demon is.
Lucas, hang in there. I’m doing the best I can, and honestly, if it’s necessary, I’ll keep searching for the villain even after I’m out of here. No one deserves to be locked up for a crime they didn’t commit. Don’t give up hope yet. Never give up hope.
Chapter Five
The next day, I'm woken early by a guard name Illumine. He's a phoenix, a man with red-orange wings. His hooked nose is decidedly bird-like, and his eyes are amazing, all fiery and bright, especially in the darkness in the prison no matter the hour of the day, and right now, it's early in the morning.
“You don’t just get the night shift, unfortunately, Mirella,” he says after he introduces himself. “Time to round on the inmates and make sure they’re all here.”
I rub sleep-induced sand from my eyes, head over to the basin in the corner, splash water onto my face, and hesitate. Illumine’s turned his back, so I quickly change my clothes and then fall into step behind him.
Unlike my first tour with Portia, Illumine and I check on every single patient. It’s long and tedious, but then, we reach a cell containing a demon, another with a demon, another, and another, and…
I walk ahead and then stop. This demon is gagged and bound. He’s not able to do anything except breath and look around.
“Illumine,” I call.
The phoenix flies over and lands beside me. “Ah, yes, Brokon.”
“Why is he bound and gag
ged?” I ask. The others hadn’t been.
“He’s the most powerful demon locked up here. He’s probably the most powerful paranormal creature in the entire prison. We can’t be too careful with him.”
“Why not just keep him in solitary indefinitely?”
“Even a demon committed of a crime or five hundred has rights,” he says in a tone that suggests he wishes otherwise.
“Five hundred?”
“Maybe an exaggeration,” he says, but he isn’t smiling, and I see no hint that he’s joking.
I swallow hard. A mega-powerful demon is responsible. I know he is, but how am I supposed to prove it?
That night, I sneak out of my room. Feeling very much like a thief or even a criminal, I make my way to Brokon’s cell. Despite the darkness, I can tell that the demon is watching me. He hasn’t moved at all from when I first saw him.
I’m desperate. I don’t have a lot of time here, and I need to somehow prove Brokon is the true guilty party. Unless he confesses, I’m out of luck.
Just because I’m facing something insanely difficult doesn’t mean I’m going to back down.
It’s not something I’ve ever attempted before, but I close my eyes and enter a trance, but, and it’s a huge but, I try to force the demon into the trance with me so we can talk.
My eyes open inside the trance. I’m alone, but not for long. The demon is before me, ungagged and unbound, and my stomach twists into knots.
“Why have you brought me here?” he demands.
“To talk.”
“About?”
“A certain siren.”
"What makes you think I want to talk to you about anything?" He moves around me, forcing me to turn to be able to look at him. He's not walking. His legs aren't moving. Somehow, he's basically gliding, almost flying on the ground.
“Do you deny using Lucas’ voice to cause two teenagers to kill themselves?”
The demon grins. His teeth look even longer up close. “I do deny it.”
Hexes and Handcuffs: A Limited Edition Collection of Supernatural Prison Stories Page 49
