by Geonn Cannon
Ari turned off the light and pulled the blanket up to her waist. She put her hands under the pillow and stared at the ceiling. The narrow window was letting in some of the city light, which made her feel like she was in a hotel. But just beyond the open cell door she could hear other prisoners talking, buzzers, voices over radio. She wanted to reach out and feel Dale’s hip next to her, wanted to curl up and listen to her breathing. Sleeping alone might end up being just as difficult as keeping her wolf at bay.
She closed her eyes and hoped her utter exhaustion would overwhelm her stress and racing brain. She was also stressed that the wolf might use her falling asleep as an excuse to transform. It had happened in the past under normal circumstances. If the wolf felt trapped, it would be an easy way to break through her defenses and escape.
Please behave, she pleaded. You cannot let yourself out. Let me tell you when it’s safe. The moment I can let you out, I will. You have my vow.
There was no answer, not that she expected one, but she thought maybe a little bit of the tension faded. Hopefully that meant the wolf had agreed and there was an accord. She took a long, slow breath and let it out through her nose. She had long ago discovered that sleep was possible in any situation, it just required the proper levels of exhaustion. She had hit that level around lunchtime, so even with her whole life teetering on the edge of disaster, sleep was just a matter of letting herself go.
Ari didn’t know how much time passed before she was woken up by a noise. The main lights were off but there was a dim gold-orange glow of security lights filtering in from the main room. At some point during the night she had rolled onto her side to face the wall. The sound that had awoken her was still happening as she opened her eyes: a repetitive, rhythmic squeak, the protest of springs against metal and the quiet tap of a mattress against the stone wall.
She rolled onto her back and looked across the cell. Someone was on top of Segura, one elbow on the mattress by her head while the other arm was doing something under the blankets. The woman was tall, slender, muscular. Her hair was dark and loose so that it covered her face as she continued thrusting. But the most obvious and alarming thing about the woman was the fact she was wearing the uniform shirt of a guard. It was unbuttoned, and Segura’s hands were roaming eagerly across the white T-shirt. One of Segura’s legs had slipped off the mattress to swing free with the motion of the guard’s thrusts, and her other leg - judging from the shape the blanket made - was wrapped around the taller woman’s waist.
“Hey...”
Both women looked toward her. Segura grinned and winked. She spoke in a whisper that probably didn’t carry further than the cell door. “Go back to sleep, Willow. Everything’s cool.”
Ari furrowed her brow. “This...”
“It’s fine,” Segura said. “She’s not doing anything I don’t want her to do. Just go back to sleep.”
The guard whispered, “Or watch. We’re not shy.”
Segura laughed and dropped her head back to the pillow. “You’re nasty.”
“Damn right.” The guard dropped her head and attached her lips to Segura’s neck. Segura arched her back and pushed her hands under the white T-shirt, which made the guard hunch her shoulders and move faster.
Ari rolled back toward the wall and tried to ignore the gasps, sighs, and bedframe noises coming from across the cell. Apparently it was going to be a long night after all.
Chapter Seven
The house was quiet when Dale got back, so she assumed Gwen had decided to try sleeping. She took her bag into the guest room - the room where Ari had grown up - and set up her computer. It was almost three in the morning but her nap was keeping her awake. Once she had the wifi connected, she opened a browser and ran a search for Cecily Parrish.
She skipped over the results she’d found the first time she did the search, back when GG&M first offered Ari a job. There was a slew of professional reviews, ratings, news reports covering her trials, and a dutifully-updated LinkedIn page. Originally she was trying to learn Cecily’s professional reputation. Now she wanted to know absolutely everything the internet had about the bitch. A long time ago, her job had evolved to include this kind of research. All she had to do was treat Cecily like a client’s cheating spouse and see what the web provided.
Working the keyboard relaxed her. The scroll of databases, columns of names and dates, unchangeable facts... it was exactly what she needed. She slowly built up a biography of the woman who was trying to rip their lives apart.
Cecily Isolde Parrish was born in L’Anse Grise, Louisiana, at some point in the early seventies, judging by her school records. Her father was a volunteer fire fighter who died when was a toddler, and her mother owned a small inn. Cecily studied law at Columbia (Dale made a note: how? $$$) and moved to Seattle in the mid-nineties. She was immediately hired by GG&M and quickly worked her way through the ranks to her current position as a partner.
After that, there were awards and media mentions. Cecily loved getting in front of cameras, and the local news loved getting soundbites from her. There was a whole archive on KCTV-6 tagged with Cecily’s name. Dale watched a few of them but stopped after she realized the cadence of Cecily’s voice was lulling her into a near-hypnotic state.
“Tricksy succubusses,” she muttered. No wonder Cecily liked being on camera if she could use it as an undetectable method of tampering with public opinion. She shuddered to think of how often she had fallen prey to it without realizing.
While she was on the news site, she risked clicking over to the main page to see their most recent stories. It was right at the top, a video with the headline “Seward Park Woman Killed; Local Private Investigator Charged.” Dale wrinkled her nose and clicked despite every instinct telling her she didn’t want to see what was about to play. An ad played before the video, and she spent the entire thirty seconds cringing and hoping it wouldn’t be too terrible.
Sofia Kennedy was seated at the Channel Six desk. A graphic over her right shoulder showed a cartoonish chalk outline of a body with the bland title chevron WOMAN MURDERED.
“An anonymous call to the police led to the discovery of a woman who had been murdered in her own apartment. This happened just off South Hawthorn Road in Seward Park.” The video showed an apartment building surrounded by emergency vehicles and people in uniforms milling around. “The alleged killed led police on a foot chase which resulted in capture and arrest. Seattle Police identified the suspect as local private investigate Adrian Willow.”
“God damn it,” Dale muttered. It was a stupid thing to get mad about, especially under the circumstances, but she found it infuriating.
The image shifted to Ari’s mugshot, and Dale had to laugh. Ari looked utterly defiant, chin up and eyes narrowed. She was clearly ready for a fight.
Sofia continued, “Police have not yet released the victim’s name, but believe the crime to have been due to a domestic issue.”
Dale said, “Domestic...? Oh, for crying out loud...” She closed the window and dismissed the stupid newscast and its woefully mistaken information. They couldn’t even get Ari’s name right, how could they be trusted with anything else?
She wanted to do research into succubi, see if she could separate myth from fact, but her eyes were tired. She decided to lie down for an hour or two in an attempt to get back on a more normal sleep cycle. She turned off the computer and changed into her pajamas. She tried not to think about if Ari got pajamas, if her bed was comfortable or not, if she had a nice cellmate or someone cruel... The last time she’d felt this detached was after Ari was cured of her painful transitions and went off with Gwen to relearn how to be a wolf. At least then she could comfort herself with the knowledge Ari was with her mother. Now, she had no one. Nothing.
“You have me,” she whispered. She looked at the window and willed her words to travel across the city to Ari’s cell. “You’ll always have me. Sweet dreams, puppy.”
She didn’t know how long she was asleep before she heard voices in the house. Gwe
n was downstairs talking to someone, a voice Dale recognized but couldn’t place while semi-conscious. She was also vaguely aware of the bedroom door opening and someone looking in on her.
“Dale?” Gwen said softly. “I just wanted to let you know I was back.”
“Where’d you go?” Dale kept her eyes closed and burrowed against the pillow.
“We’ll talk about it when you wake up. Get your rest, sweetheart.”
Dale murmured some kind of acknowledgement and went back to sleep. When she woke up at indeterminate amount of time later, the sun had fully risen. The smell of breakfast had permeated the house enough to reach her, and she could hear people talking at the front of the house. She heard male voices, so she put on clothes before she left the bedroom. A cluster of suitcases were parked at the end of the hallway and she stared at them curiously as she passed.
The bathroom door opened behind her. “Well,” a familiar and very welcome voice said, “I thought I smelled the stink of a human in here.”
Dale turned and saw Milo Duncan, hair wet from the shower and wearing only a towel. The British wolf smiled at her and held her arms out for a hug, saving Dale from having to speak by substituting a hug. She was vaguely aware of how awkward it was to have her cheek against Milo’s bare shoulder, which was also damp, but she didn’t care.
“Where did you come from?” she finally managed.
“Gwen called me yesterday. I guess it was right after you got out of court She told me everything and suggested I hop on a plane and help out if I could.” Milo stepped back and brushed Dale’s hair behind her ears. “So here I am.”
“But that’s... what, ten hours on a plane?” The only thing canidae hated more than flying was water. “That must have been hell for you.”
Milo shrugged. “It’s for Ari. Of course we came.”
“We?”
“Some of my pack decided they owed you and Ari, too. Go on downstairs and say hi. I should get dressed.” She kissed Dale’s forehead. “We’ll get her back, right?”
Dale nodded. They still didn’t have a plan or any idea how to save Ari from transforming in public, let alone how they were going to beat Cecily at a game she was so obviously amazing at, but they were making progress. Last night it had just been her and Gwen against the world.
Today they had the start of an army.
#
In the morning, Ari woke up before Segura. She sat on the edge of the bed and planted her feet on the floor, sitting in the silence and wondering what time it was and what the day had in store for her. The first day had been a whirlwind without a chance to truly process everything happening to her. Waking up in prison was a surefire way to drive the point home, though. She was a prisoner. She had been arrested for murder, she was denied bail, and now she was awaiting a trial in which she would be prosecuted by a woman with a vendetta against her.
Life was, from a purely objective standpoint, really shitty at the moment.
Segura stretched her arms out, flattened her palms against the wall, and grunted as she pushed her feet out from under the blanket. She flopped onto her back, smoothed her hair with one hand, and blinked her eyes open. She immediately looked toward Ari, looked at the cell door, and pushed herself up onto her elbows. She grinned and ducked her head in a gesture that was too prideful to be called shame.
“That was Vogel.”
“Ah.”
“It’s not... I know, the visual of a guard on top of a prisoner in the middle of the night, it doesn’t look good. And you actually spoke up. You were going to do something. I appreciated that, even though it wasn’t necessary.” She threw back the blankets and sat up. She lifted her arms and twisted one way, then the other, and Ari heard her back popping. Segura sighed and sat up straighter. “How much of the story do you want?”
Ari waved her hand. “I don’t need any of the story, really. It’s your business. If you say that it’s all consensual, then that’s all I need.”
“It’s completely consensual. Well... actually, last night, she had to be convinced.” Segura’s eyes momentarily became distant, and her lips curled into a half-smile at the memory. “She didn’t expect to find you here. I was hoping she would see you when she did the count, but as you saw...”
“Right,” Ari said. “And it seemed like she got real comfortable with me being here pretty quick.”
Segura’s eyes widened. “I know, right? The thing about letting you watch? Hell, I didn’t expect that from her. But it’s good information to have.”
A buzzer sounded. Segura stood up and took her place next to the door. She motioned for Ari to do the same.
“So is that going to be a regular thing?” Ari asked. “No offense, but I might have to invest in some earplugs if she’s going to keep dropping in.”
“Alas, no.” Segura sighed. “We’d been taking advantage of the fact I didn’t have a cellmate, but now we’re going to have to get creative about where we meet up.”
“Sorry.”
Segura shrugged. “It’s not your fault. We were getting a little too comfortable anyway.”
“This is good for me, though,” Ari said. “Maybe there’s a way for me to get some privacy, too.”
“The fact we’re talking about it means it isn’t private,” Segura said with a laugh. “What’s going on with you that’s so secret anyway?” Ari pressed her lips tightly together. “Come on. If you can’t trust your cellie, who can you trust?”
Ari was saved from answering by the arrival of a guard. She was tall, athletic, and wore the uniform like it had been tailored for her. She had an amazing jaw and the high cheekbones of a model or a classical sculpture. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a severe bun that only served to accentuate her bone structure and ice blue eyes. She kept her expression neutral as she counted Ari and Segura.
“Morning, ladies.”
It was the voice that did it. Ari looked at Segura, who was trying to hide a smile, and then looked at the guard again to confirm what she already knew. Her name tag said M. VOGEL, otherwise known as the woman who had visited their cell a few hours earlier.
“Everything going okay here?”
Segura said, “Yeah, everyone here is satisfied with the service they’ve received.”
Vogel’s face remained impassive, but Ari thought she could see a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Are you being snide, Segura?”
“No, boss, I know my place, boss. So does this one.” She slapped Ari on the shoulder. “She’s a good egg. You won’t have to worry about either of us, boss.”
“Uh-huh,” Vogel said, already moving away from the cell door. To Ari, she said, “Don’t let her be a bad influence on you, Willow.”
Ari said, “Uh. I’ll do my best.”
Vogel walked away and Ari let her eyes drift down to see how she filled out the uniform pants. Segura slugged her on the shoulder.
“Yo. What happened to ‘love of my life’?”
“Dale and I both appreciate good-looking women,” Ari said. “When I tell her about this, she’s going to ask if the guard had a nice ass.”
Segura said, “And what are you going to say?”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
Segura smiled proudly. “Come on. We should get in the breakfast line before all the eggs are gone.” She led the way back to where they’d had dinner. “I get that you might not want to talk about your secret yet. We just met and I admitted I’m a con artist. But you’ve got a pretty big nuke aimed at my head if I ever betray your trust.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone about you,” Ari said. “And my secret isn’t the sort of thing you just blurt out. But... it is something that might become an issue sooner rather than later. There’s a chance I won’t get a chance to spill the beans before I need your help.”
Segura turned so they were facing each other. She offered her hand, and Ari took it.
“You’re an interesting gal, Willow. I look forward to getting to know one another.”
“Me too.
If I have to be in here, at least it’s with someone I like.”
Segura joined the line for breakfast and Ari stood behind her. “It does make things easier. And whatever’s going on, whether you tell me the whole story or not, you can count on me to help you. I’m on your side.”
“That’s a relief. Thank you.”
The wolf had been quiet since she woke up, but she knew that wasn’t an indication of how it would behave for the rest of the day. Anything might trigger it. At least now she felt like she had someone watching her back.
Chapter Eight
The downstairs was full of wolves. Hannah and Mia were at the kitchen table, Tarun was in the kitchen with Paige, while Owen and Benji were lounging on Gwen’s luxurious leather sectional scrolling through the options on her television. Dale recognized all of them from their last visit to Seattle during wolf manoth and smiled despite the circumstances of their visit. Hannah Milsap, the lithe tattoo artist whose life Dale had saved, was the first to spot her coming downstairs and almost knocked over her chair getting up. She ran across the kitchen and wrapped Dale in a rib-bruising hug.
“My savior,” Hannah said.
Dale laughed and accepted the hug as Mia, Hannah’s partner, approached and put a hand on the back of her head.
“Hello again, Dale,” Mia said. There was weight in those three words that proved she still held Dale in the highest esteem for what she had done. Mia, who had never trusted a non-wolf, now owed a human a debt she could never repay. A hunter’s bullet had knocked Hannah down, leaving her defenseless and surrounded. Dale rescued her without a second thought to her own safety. For that act alone, Mia would always consider Dale to be her packmate.
“Hi, Mia.”
“Hannah, please. Let her breathe.”
Hannah stepped back but kept her hands on Dale’s hips. The rest of the pack clustered around her. Paige O’Brien and Owen Kiernan, once married but now divorced according to Milo’s emails. Tarun Conrad shyly held out his hand to squeeze Dale’s fingers, while Benji Wood put a hand on her shoulder. Dale, ordinarily the kind of person who hated group hugs, couldn’t help but feel comforted. It felt good to be surrounded by people who were going to help her through whatever trials were coming next.