by Amir Lane
“What are you doing?” Audra hissed.
“I don't want a new roommate. You're bad enough.”
“I don't want your fucking help.”
“Too fucking late.”
I avoided the first punch the faerie threw at me, but I let the second one collide. Hot pain flashed across my cheekbone, making white dance across my eyes. I heard more than saw the third swing. I closed my eyes against the throb in my skull. A barrier scratched against my ribs, trying to get free, trying to protect me. It wasn't going to work. The iron flakes in my bloodstream were still too strong. Maybe in a few days, I would be able to overpower it, but not yet.
I grabbed the faerie girl’s arm, dropped and twisted, and flipped her over me onto her back. I turned to Audra and the second faerie. The faerie was hesitating, her hands still balled into fists, and Audra was staring at me.
Shit.
Had I just blown my cover?
A rustling of wings behind me got my attention. The faerie coughed, but there was still fight in her. Dammit, faeries were much tougher than they looked. I brought my own fists up, ready to knock her out after letting her rough me up a little.
“All right, ladies, break it up,” an officer barked. Her voice rattled off the walls. “Asghar, you have a visitor. Come on. Now.”
Her words travelled through me, right down into my bones. Even though I tried to ground myself against the order, I had no choice but to stand and follow her. I felt like a puppet, my limbs shifting forward without conscious thought. Desperate panic rose up in my throat. My left thumb felt my index for the siren rings. The panic tightened my chest until I remembered why they weren't there.
I'm in danger.
I’d known it from the start. No powers, nobody who knew who I was. Not even my warded rings to protect me. I'd been so worried about the other prisoners, I hadn't even given any thought to the guards. We had always been on the same side. Now, though, as the siren gripped my arm with bruising force and dragged me down the hall, I realized on more than just a conceptual level that they saw no difference between me as the prisoners.
That’s the point, isn't it?
Of course it was. That didn't mean my skin didn't prickle at the realization that I was completely alone.
I was so focused on keeping my breathing even as the officer clipped a chain to my manacles, I didn't notice her leading me to the visiting room until she shoved me down into a chair. On the other side of the glass was Indira. I'd never been so happy to see his broad grin in my life. It took a conscious effort not to smile. The bruise forming on my face and the old split in my lip helped. I picked up the plastic phone next to me and held the receiver to my ear. Indira did the same.
“Oh, you do not look good. How's the other guy look?” he asked, masking his concern with chipperness.
“Worse.”
“So you holding up okay in here? How's the food? Lousy, I bet. Must be great if you're on a diet. Not that you need to be on one. You look pretty good, for someone who stabbed a guy.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Normally, I loved his aimless chatter. It should have made me feel better, but this headache was killing me. I'd never had to deal with iron poisoning before.
“I'm fine,” I ground out. Pain made it sound like anger. “Why are you here?”
Indira looked over his shoulder. I followed his eyes but there was nobody there. Nobody I could see, at least.
“I can't just be concerned about your well-being? All right, you got me. Truth is, I'm just wondering if you're ready to talk about those two missing bodies yet.”
Two missing bodies? One was obviously Rowan. So who was— Kseniya. Rowan's girlfriend. I kept forgetting about her.
Even if I had any information, I couldn't say yes. Cooperating with the police would get me killed in here. We'd worked through a code system but I couldn't focus enough to think of it. My vision blurred and I shook my head, my teeth clenched tight.
“Faiza? You all right?”
“Fuck you. There's nothing to tell.”
Please understand.
He stared at me for a long few seconds. I struggled to remember what I was supposed to say, so I repeated myself and hoped that was enough.
“Okay. Nothing to tell. That's too bad. Was really hoping to have some better news for the boss.”
He understood. I saw it in his red eyes, in the crease of his brow, in the down-turned corners of his lips. He really had been hoping for better news. There was no way for me to properly express my regret.
“Sorry to disappoint,” I muttered. It felt flatter than I intended.
“Oh, don't worry about it too much,” he said, all bright smiles again. He was too good at that. “We’ll just have to have this talk again. Take a nap. You look like hell.”
I fixed my expression into a scowl. “Go fuck yourself.”
He waved his fingers at me and hung up. An overwhelming need to follow him filled me. My eyes burned and my throat itched.
Don't leave me here! Please don't leave me in this place!
I locked my muscles to stop myself from jumping up and screaming. My sweaty hand trembled as I hung up the phone. I imagined him going back to his car and calling Kieron to tell him I had nothing. Would he tell Kieron I'd been beat up? Would Kieron try to pull me out?
Part of me wanted him to. A pretty big part of me, actually. It took an effort to remind myself why I was doing this.
“All I wanted was to do good.”
I was doing this for Rowan and everybody else the Black Birches had hurt. Hell, on some level, I was even doing this for Audra. Just because she obviously didn’t like me didn’t mean she deserved what she’d gone through. What would happen to her in Latvia? If she really did get broken out, would she return to being a Black Birches enforcer? She couldn’t have wanted more of that life.
The headache lessened some as I was led back to my cell. By the time the gate clanked shut behind me, it was back to the persistent throb I'd grown used to.
My back hit the stone wall. Pain burst through my sinuses as the reflexive barrier was forced back. I brought my hands up. My fingers tingled but nothing solid came up. The habitual burn started in my hip, then receded. Then started, then receded. The constant loop made me dizzy. I pressed my hip back to the wall.
Audra stared at me, her own hands balled into fists, but she didn't come closer. Her nostrils were flared, pupils blown wide, an instinct clearly warring with rational thought. The space gave me time to breathe. Only when I was no longer gasping for air did Audra grab the front of my jumpsuit and pin me to the wall.
Prison porn had never appealed to me, and I knew in that moment that it never would.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Chapter Eight
This wasn't good. This really wasn't good.
I schooled my expression into what I hoped was confusion. My heart raced against my ribs. Could she see the veins in my neck throbbing? With the intensity of her glare, it wouldn't have surprised me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, projecting the same venom into my voice that I'd used with Indira.
I didn't feel it now any more than I did then. Rowan had always teased that I wasn't mean enough to play Bad Cop, no matter how much I wanted to try it. He might have been on to something.
“Where's a pretty girl like you learn to fight like that?”
My laugh was too high-pitched to come across as authentic. I told myself it was from having the wind knocked out of me and hoped my internal conviction was enough to make her believe it.
“Is that what you're worried about? That I fight? Pretty girl like me grew up in a war zone. You learn to fight pretty fast.”
I hated lying. I especially hated lying about this. Yes, Lebanon had been at war for a very long time. Yes, some parts of Lebanon weren't exactly top tourist destinations. And yes, a car bomb had triggered my powers. But I hadn't learned to fight until I moved to Canada. My ex-fiancé, a law student at the time, did mixed marti
al arts in his spare time and had taught me a few tricks before I joined the police academy. He hadn't believed my barriers were enough protection. I wasn't sure he was wrong. Since then, I’d also started a kickboxing class to keep in shape, though the shoulder injury had limited my participation.
Audra seemed to accept the answer. She let out a long sigh and sat on the bottom bunk — my bunk. I wasn't sure if it was her way of silently telling me she owned this cell, if it was a habit, or if she was just tired. One of her hands came up to rub her arm, and she winced a little. I leaned against the wall.
“What did you do to get those girls so mad?” I asked.
That was a reasonable question, wasn't it?
Audra shrugged. “Doesn't take much to get people mad in here. Look at someone the wrong way, say something you shouldn't, talking to the wrong person. It's easier to make enemies than friends. You didn't have to step in. But… I appreciate it. Thank you.” The last words seemed to come as an afterthought, as if she wasn't used to saying them. She bared her teeth at me. “Don't smile, we're still not friends.”
“I know. That's just the nicest thing anybody has said to me since I was arrested.”
“How have you not been murdered in here already?”
There was humour in her voice, and it made me laugh. It might have been some kind of Stockholm Syndrome settling in, but I saw goodness in her. My parents always told me that nobody was born evil. Even though some people certainly seemed like they were, I had to believe it. I had to keep seeing the good in people. I wanted to save the world, not get buried in the ugliness of it.
“You all right, pretty girl? You look a little lost in there.”
“Just missing home,” I said.
“The war zone?”
“The people.”
I missed Ariadne. When I first met her doing that autopsy, it was the first time in too long that I saw light. I saw a girl who had been hurt and rejected by boyfriend after girlfriend after boyfriend, and by her family, and still believed in good. No matter how ugly the world got, she was still good.
I missed her more than I knew how to say.
“I can respect that,” Audra said.
I almost asked about her family, but stopped myself. She obviously wasn't a sharer, and I didn't want to press my luck. I wiped my hands on the rough jumpsuit. My heart rate slowed down to what was becoming normal under the circumstances. If anything, it was the stress that was going to kill me in here.
I didn't know how long this odd camaraderie would last. I had to take advantage of it.
“So… I heard you were in a gang.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Where'd you hear that.”
I shrugged. “I don't know. Somebody said it. I don't know who.”
Audra leaned back on her elbows. Her sleeve rode up, revealing a tattoo on her arm. It might have been similar to the brand Rowan had on his foot, but I hadn't seen it close enough to know for sure. It was a tree, either way.
“Black Birches,” Audra said.
That was progress. I forced myself to frown.
“Is that the one from the news? From the video with the police officer?”
It was Audra’s turn to frown. Had she not heard about it, or was my awful explanation too awful?
“There was that police officer, Oak something, who made a video saying Black Birches made him hide crimes.” At her blank expression, I added, “He said his real name was… It was something like Biazroy.”
“Biarozy?”
I shrugged, but the way she straightened a little made my heart race all over again, and not in any good way. Her eyes bore into mine. Could she see through the masking spell? If it was fading already, I was going to punch both Kieron and his nephew. He'd said it would last more than a week. Finally, Audra shrugged again and tilted her head back to look at the bottom of her bunk.
“That's the first I'm hearing of it. I’m sure you noticed we don't get cable in here.”
Surely somebody would have heard about it and told her. She couldn't be the only Black Birches member in this prison. I couldn't let my frustration get the better of me, but I was running out of time. I snapped my fingers.
“Oh! His name was Rowan. I remember because I thought it was funny that he was named after two trees, and he's a dryad.”
There wasn't so much as a flicker of recognition on Audra’s face. My stomach sank right down to my toes before I realized she must have known Rowan by his birth certificate name. Guilt gnawed at me at the thought of outing him like that, almost overpowering the concern of how I would even know that name. This would have to be enough for now. Any more and she would get suspicious. I would have to bide my time.
Still, I couldn't stop the quiet voice whispering at the back of my mind.
What if she doesn't know him?
The only thing I didn't hate about prison was how much time I had to work out. I'd never been in bad shape, and I liked being able to keep up with it. Lifting weights wasn’t something I did much of. Back home, I was on basketball and soccer teams. I've been doing Muay Thai since I joined Special Crimes. I'd been swimming for a while, but I had to take a break while my shoulder healed. It would be a while before I could get my stroke back to the way it was. It was a good thing I'd never wanted to compete. Ariadne and I went for runs and walks all the time. Lifting weights was a nice change of pace.
There wasn't much to do here but lift weights. No swimming, no Muay Thai. I didn't mind, though I had to be careful not to aggravate my shoulder. I'd put on weight since having to slow down with my workouts.
Even though I was looking up at the ceiling while doing bench presses, I could feel eyes on me. The girls in here were still trying to figure me out. Ignoring them was easier than ignoring the itch under my skin from my barriers trying to claw through the blockage. I exhaled slowly, pushing the bar up. I only had twenty pounds on each end but it was plenty to make my arms tremble. I moved the bar slowly, focusing on my right shoulder. The pain was sharp and focused on the spots where the muscles had been torn on two separate occasions, but it wasn’t anything to worry about yet. As long as I didn’t add any more weights, I shouldn’t have to worry.
Pain flashed through my sinuses. My elbows gave out. I barely had time to gasp as the bar fell. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for it to crush me.
It didn't.
I cracked an eye open, then opened them fully when I realized the bar wasn't just hovering in mid-air, waiting for me to look so I could see it fall. The siren who caught the bar pulled the weights off and set them and the bar back in their respective places. Her pale blue scales glittered in the afternoon sunlight, reflecting light into my eyes.
“Thank you,” I said.
She turned to face me and nodded. A line of scar tissue separated the scales on her throat. It was something I'd seen in older sirens. I tried not to stare.
It wasn't until the mid-to-late 19th-century that the non-magic human population finally and fully realized that monsters walked among them. Mass hysteria came with another round of witch hunts before they realized there was no overpowering or outnumbering these things. These things had evolved alongside humans. Most of them either looked human or could pass as human. Colonization has driven every potential threat to extinction, except the ones who could pass.
It was a familiar story. Every few centuries, all across the world, some parahuman would make themselves known. Humans would lose their minds and drive everything else back into hiding. Then, everybody would calm down and the monsters would become things of stories again. Only, the last time, things had changed. The monsters had refused to go back. And when humans realized it, self-preservation won out.
Then the Eugenics Movement started. It strove to remove ’undesirables’ from the population. Women, human or otherwise, would have their tubes tied after giving birth or while undergoing another operation, and men would be given vasectomies. The grey area of parahuman rights allowed unwanted operations, even on babies, to prevent the
m from breeding or becoming a threat. One method was removing both sets of siren vocal cords. There were violent and bloody uprisings all over the world to bring it to an end.
Regulations came, laws were amended. It wasn't perfect, and I didn't think it ever would be. There were too many fine details, but that went for anything. The important part was that mutilating sirens was no longer legal. It was a law that did little to help this particular siren, though.
I watched her walk away from me, her shoulders swaying. Sometimes, I was too aware of how something could be legal but not right, and vice versa.
I stretched my arms over my head, wincing at the pull against the scars on my shoulder. Lifting weights wasn't the best thing for me. If not for the fact that it seemed to be a way to establish that I belonged here, I wouldn't have done it at all. I still shouldn't have been risking injuring my shoulder like this. I walked around the yard, trying to make it look like I was just stretching rather than scoping the crowd. Audra was sitting on the bleachers with a few other dryads. I wondered if they were all Black Birches. A group of witches eyed me warily. I tried not to make eye contact. Covens were harder to get out of than gangs. I'd never gotten involved with one, and I wasn't planning on starting now.
As I was closing up my second lap, the officer from the other day barked my fake name.
“Asghar! Your lawyer’s here to see you.”
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“My lawyer?” I mouthed.
What lawyer? We hadn't factored any lawyer into this plan, had we?
“Move, Asghar!”
Once again, without meaning to, I did. I’d heard sirens’ influence described as a form of hypnosis. My reflex was to fight it, to drag my heels. It would only end up hurting me. I let myself be pulled forward, gritting my teeth all the way. I didn’t need to pretend to be annoyed about it.
“Did you ever want to be something other than a corrections officer?” I asked as we walked through the hall.
The constant headache was making me cranky. Plus, I was trying to distract myself from worrying about who the so-called lawyer was. The only lawyer I was close with was my ex-fiancé, Waleed. I doubted they would use him to check on me. It couldn’t be Kieron or Sabine, they would be too known here. I didn’t think Ariadne would be that bold. Had somebody figured out what I was up to? It couldn’t be Rowan, he wouldn’t risk it. But it could be somebody else from the Black Birches. Or it could be—