by Avet, Danica
Brit shook his head from side to side and she read it as a denial, her fury roaring back stronger than ever.
“Yes,” she spat out. “I’m going to kill him,” she promised in an animalistic growl. “I’m going to get out of this, catch that slimy bastard, skin him alive to find out who his leader is and then I’m going to kill him and anyone else who stands in my way.” She wanted to say she’d kill Brit too, to warn him not to protect his cousin, but she knew she couldn’t do it. She might hate him, but the flip side of that hate was a love so intense she wouldn’t be able to cause him physical pain. “You can take that motherfuckin’ promise to the bank.”
Brit continued to stare at her, something lethal rising in his eyes. The power in the room increased until the fine hair on her arms stood straight up. She waited for it, waited for him to unleash that fury on her, to put down the rabid dog before it hurt anyone. Her mental shields caught the faint whispers of other signatures nearby, of panic and satisfaction, of fear and acceptance. But all she felt from Brit was an overwhelming electricity and rage that threatened to squash her.
His entire body glowed blue, the electricity rising up in his eyes, drowning out the dark brown beneath the electric color. Her heart didn’t know whether to break again, beat or just stop altogether. Fear, relief and even a sliver of love coiled in her stomach. She was almost glad it was over.
Brit stepped forward, glowing hands raised. Gyda held her breath, unable to take her eyes off him as he came closer and closer. Looking at him, watching the man she loved despite the pain he’d brought her, she was almost glad it was him and not some random stranger.
He leaned down and she closed her eyes, waiting for the electricity in his touch to light her up one last time, for it to cast an impossible glow over the darkness of her heart. But all she felt was the brush of warm lips on her brow and the spring of the restraints being released.
Gyda opened her eyes to see Brit staring into her face, his hands busy at the restraints holding her in the chair. Her heart leapt into her throat, joining the knot that’d formed when she laid her soul out for him to pick over and reject, making it impossible to breathe properly, much less speak.
Once her wrists were freed, he lifted his hands to cup her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “I love you,” he whispered in a barely there voice, the words almost vibrating with intensity. His eyes closed for a second before they snapped open. He jerked his head to the side, staring at the mirror where someone was watching. Gyda watched in stunned amazement as his jaw bunched, lines bracketing his mouth as fury poured out of him. Then he turned back to her with soulful brown eyes laced with blue. “I love you with everything I am, Gyda. And I’m going to kill that bastard with my bare hands.”
He placed a swift kiss on her open lips, open because her jaw dropped at his words. The familiar sizzle was there, but she couldn’t even enjoy it because she was that shocked at Brit’s words. All of them. He couldn’t love her. It was impossible. He was…walking away from her, leaving her legs strapped to the chair.
Gyda hurriedly released the remaining restraints and stood. Her legs threatened to buckle when she did, pins and needles taking up residence in the limbs as blood rushed to circulate, but she fought past the sensation, following Brit to the door. She waited for the guards to rush in, to stop them from leaving the room, but he sailed through the door without challenge.
Once outside her cell, Gyda looked left and right, waiting for the prison staff to attack, to do something, but no one was there. Everything was quiet and still, except for the full-fledged panic that wafted out of the room next to her cell. Brit went to slam his shoulder into the barrier, but it opened from the inside, the familiar figure of Director Daly standing in the doorway.
“Move.” The order came from Brit, who looked as though he’d walk right over the taller woman if she got in his way.
“I’m sorry,” she chirped with a wink at Gyda. “We didn’t order room service.”
“Joe, move the fuck out of my way.”
“I know this is a bad time, but great job, you two,” she cheered with a false smile. “The minute Asa realized Gyda could actually speak, he tried to get out of here and when she really started talking, he began to freak out and attempted to attack me.” She splayed a hand in the center of her chest. “Can you believe that? He tried to attack me! And of course, an attack on the Director is an automatic ass whipping by said Director. Then while I was giving him what for, he started to talk and he said the most amazing things I caught on the trusty security system, which conveniently short-circuited after his confession.”
Gyda shifted her feet behind Brit, not sure what was going on, but hope rising with every passing second.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” Brit growled.
Joe rolled her eyes and stood back. “Fine, but you can’t kill him. Not yet.” Brit barged through the door and the minute he did, high-pitched screams sounded on the other side. Gyda froze in place, wide eyes locked on what she couldn’t see.
Then Joe tilted her head. “He’s so going to leave a mess, but Asa deserves it. I think you should join us, Gyda,” she said in a voice that held a lot less cheer. “This is as much vindication for you as it is an interrogation in an ongoing investigation.” She paused and lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry I put you through this, but I needed you to verify what I believed happened.”
A flash of light followed by another scream punctuated Joe’s statement. The Director glanced over her shoulder and winced before turning back to Gyda. “Yeah, you probably want to get in here if you want to get any licks in. I can only allow Brit to interrogate him for so long before security comes in.”
She wasn’t sure she trusted the Director, because every single time she’d come into contact with the woman, she usually ended up knocked out.
Joe snorted. “You’re not really gonna hold that against me, are you? I mean, I was just doing my job. It isn’t like I pick a random person and say ‘You know, I think we should knock her out just for shits and giggles.’ You were dangerous. All of you were dangerous. Still are really, but I sort of like that about you guys.” Then she smiled. “I really hope Desta was right about you. I want a new pedicure buddy since every time I ask Brit, he bitches about it.”
“I didn’t do anything!” a male voice screeched at the end of Joe’s rambling, confusing speech.
A voice Gyda recognized. Her eyes widened in shock before they narrowed.
Joe nodded. “Yup, we got the little bastard to confess to some of his crimes against you. Enough to send him right to a cryogenic chamber. And I didn’t even have to break a nail to get the information. He squealed like a pig when he realized what you were saying,” she said with relish. “You might want to get in there.” Gyda stepped forward with eager anticipation of the pain she’d unleash on the healer, but Joe held up her hand. “One thing. You can’t cut off his balls. I know that’s just what the doctor ordered, but we have to hand him over to the judges intact.” She shrugged apologetically. “I know, it’s a shitty rule, but they actually like prisoners to be in good health when they’re sentenced.”
Shaking her head at the other woman’s weirdness, Gyda stepped into what had to be an observation room. No doubt the guards sat in here to make sure she was safe, as were the people who entered the cell, but now the observation room was a different kind of chamber.
An interrogation room without cameras, without witnesses, without anything but a chair where the healer was restrained, Brit who had his hands clasped to his cousin’s arms, Joe who closed the door, and Gyda. The guards, the ones whose emotional signatures were imprinted on this room, were gone. Leaving the healer at the mercy of Brit and Gyda.
For the first time since the day Joe appeared at the cabin with the healer, Gyda found a smile.
Chapter Fifteen
Brit stared at the back of Joe’s head in a bid to avoid looking at the large screen on the wall projecting evil. Thankful Gyda had been excused from this hearin
g, he watched as the investigative team wrote periodic notes, some of them flinching at the hateful words that seemed to echo around the small conference room. Each word hit him like a sledgehammer, battering at his heart, at his belief in the good of man.
As much as he hated hearing this evil, as much as he wished he could plug his ears and pretend it wasn’t real, Brit gave thanks to God that Joe had the good sense to record everything in Gyda’s cell from the minute she was placed in it. That she’d done it without security, or anyone else, knowing was proof she’d thought something was very wrong with Gyda’s reaction to Asa. Brit had watched those videos, watched the love of his life fight for her sanity as Asa seemed determined to shred it. The video that replayed now for the investigative team, Brit, Joe, Leo and Estelle, was like a vile tribute to hatred and betrayal.
Still, despite his vow not to listen, not to watch, his gaze was drawn to the projector screen.
“You were one of the best subjects I ever had,” Asa whispered to the snarling, struggling Gyda. “Sweet little Sixteen. I was sad when you were given to your new owner.” He licked his lips, the cameras catching the lecherous expression on his face. “You were promised to me, but your new owner paid a lot of money for you.”
Gyda lunged at him again, her eyes slits of fury.
Asa laughed softly. “You were the same way that last time I got to play with you. Do you remember it?” He sighed dreamily. “I do. You were so sweet, so scared and scarred and perfect. If I had been on call when you were rescued, I’d have stolen you away from them, kept you for myself.” His hand came out as though to touch her, but dangerously snapping teeth had him pulling back again. Yet he did so with a chuckle. “I’d have kept you in a pretty little cage, much nicer than the one he gave you, maybe put a brand on that pretty little ass of yours to show everyone you were mine.”
Brit tuned it out, dropping his gaze to his hands on his thighs, fingers digging into the muscle to keep from springing to his feet to track down Asa and kill him. It’d been a near thing when he walked into that room to see his cousin strapped to that chair. A murderous rage had filled him and he hadn’t cared that the other man was unable to protect himself, he’d launched himself at Asa, his power hitting a critical high.
Even now, he could still feel Asa’s throat between his hands as he throttled him, pumping lethal amounts of electricity into the man who frantically healed himself. He’d wanted to murder him, wanted to kill him for the torment he’d unleashed on Gyda. Tears burned his eyes even now, recalling her words, the aching self-hatred, the betrayal in her face when she looked at him.
“You’ve given me to my rapist!”
Joe jerked in front of him, her head whipping around as she read that spark of memory. Her eyes warned him to keep his shit together. It took some effort, but Brit finally managed not to break down right in the middle of an evidence review. He almost snorted at that. Evidence review, his ass. Asa thought he was so untouchable, he’d pretty much written his confession when he talked to Gyda. And once Brit finished working him over with Joe there to ascertain the truthfulness of his words, Asa admitted to the forced hormonal sterilization of at least twenty females aged between fourteen and twenty-three, the rapes of at least ten women and hiding evidence from the O.T.
Asa was going down, big time. The evidence review was a mere formality. When one of their own went black, the information was kept within the O.T., the matter handled quietly. It was a necessary evil to prevent norms from thinking the very supes who were in place to protect them were the ones they needed to fear. In Asa’s case, that would be a correct statement. But the O.T. leaders and justice system wouldn’t give Asa the chance at a trial by peer, keeping everything under wraps in-house. Asa would disappear into the cryogenic prison, but the world would think he’d been lost to violence.
Gyda wouldn’t have the satisfaction of feeling her rapist’s blood on her hands, but even she seemed content to let Asa spend an eternity frozen. Something that would have happened to her if Joe hadn’t suspected something was wrong with Gyda’s reaction to the healer. If the Director hadn’t put her job at stake by going slightly outside protocol to get the evidence needed to lock the golden-boy healer away for a long time, Gyda would have been the one up for trial.
The screen finally, thankfully, went dark and the lights in the room came back up.
“Director Daly, please explain why you felt the need to monitor Healer Quigley’s time with Patient E32290,” the head investigator requested in an impassive voice.
Brit wanted to smash the bastard’s head in and tell him Patient E32290 had a fucking name and it was Gyda St. Germaine. The man glanced up from his paperwork, glaring at Brit over the edge of his glasses. Brit sat back and folded his arms over his chest. Fucking telepaths.
Joe stood and straightened her suit as she addressed the investigator’s command. “I was present when Gyda St. Germaine,” she said, placing emphasis on Gyda’s name, “first attacked Healer Quigley. Gyda was sent to that camp to help uncover the truth of her years in captivity, the people who were behind the slave trade and still are.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “It’s no secret that I’m one of the strongest telepaths in the Order of Themis, but I couldn’t read her memories. Even with her shields down, any memories related to her time before the night of her rescue were sketchy at best, distorted and dark at the worst. But when she attacked Healer Quigley, those impressions were sharper than before, his face and emotional signature one I was able to link together.”
“And this was enough to make you suspicious of the healer?” another investigator asked after a shuffle of papers.
Joe shook her head. “No. It was curious and I almost thought she was less stable than I was originally led to believe. But then I tried to read Asa’s impression of her, to figure out if he had any understanding of why she’d react that way and hit a blank wall. It was as though he wasn’t there at all, no thoughts, no memories, nothing.”
“One moment,” yet another investigator spoke up. “Director Daly, you freely admit that you willfully attempted to enter a senior O.T. Healer’s mind? That’s a direct violation of the Code of Ethics!”
Joe turned her head to look at the outraged investigator, who paled beneath her glare. “Fine me, but I’d do it again and again if it meant putting that bastard behind bars where he belongs,” she snarled, all attempts at composure gone. She seemed to swell in size, her anger sucking at the air in the conference room. “These tapes can only tell you what happened to that poor girl. I saw it from her point of view, Leo felt it,” she said with a sweep of her hand at the empath who looked angry enough to chew nails. “Until you’ve been able to step into the mind of a terrorized, terrified woman who relives her rapes over and over again, you can stick your Code of Ethics up your ass sideways!”
The hair on the back of Brit’s neck stood and he hopped to his feet to grab Joe’s arm, pulling on some of her powers to keep her from exploding and causing a big mess. She allowed him to take a little, which he then released into the wooden floors like lightning being grounded.
She gave him a tight nod. “Thanks.” She turned back to the investigators, who blinked owlishly as though realizing how close they’d come to being nuked. “I apologize for my overreaction.” She straightened her suit again before tilting her head to the side. “Where was I?”
The head investigator dragged his gaze away and began to look through his papers. “Ah, you uh, were uh,” he moved things around frantically, “you were explaining how Healer Quigley was a blank wall.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed causing everyone to jump. She beamed. “Right, I remember now. Anyway, I realized he had some kind of mental lock on him as well, not about his activities, but about the person he worked for.” Her smile faded. “This has been troubling me. Whoever is pulling the strings for the slave trade operations is powerful. No, not just powerful, they’re one of the strongest mind manipulators I’ve ever come across. Even now, after Gyda’s memories were unl
ocked about Asa, she can’t remember the man who originally captured her. Everything is fuzzy or blank.”
“And the um, interrogation led by Agent Harper?” the investigator asked with another glare at Brit over his glasses. “Was it truly necessary to Taze the healer? And why isn’t there evidence of the questioning on file?”
“Oops,” Joe said with fake regret coloring her words. “That’s my fault. I didn’t think it was necessary to monitor the observation room once Healer Quigley’s confession was observed by the Warden and his top guards so I shut the security cameras off. None of us expected Healer Quigley to attack, forcing us to defend ourselves.”
“And Healer Quigley’s ruptured testicles, which he wasn’t able to heal? How do you explain that?”
Joe lowered her gaze and scuffed her foot. “That’s my fault too, I’m afraid. When Healer Quigley overheard Gyda outing him as her attacker and one of her tormenters, he attempted to attack me. I was only protecting myself.”
Brit’s head nearly whipped around so he could stare at his boss in disbelief because he distinctly remembered Joe egging Gyda on as she stomped, stepped, kicked and basically crushed Asa’s nuts. The man had passed out before he could heal himself. As far as Brit was concerned, it was pure justice and Joe must’ve felt the same, because he heard her voice in his head.
Try to at least look like we’re not guilty, okay?