Truth Behind the Mask

by Lesley Davis

  “Where are you heading, Pagan, as if I didn’t know?” Rogue asked via the comlink.

  “I just need to put my mind at rest that she’s okay. Today was not the nicest of starts,” Pagan said. “And I think I annoyed her with my questions too.”

  Rogue sighed. “Young love,” she said in an astute tone, causing Pagan to suddenly halt before she got onto the fire escape. She looked back to where Rogue was waiting. In the concealing shadows of night, Rogue was just another black silhouette amid the dark.

  “I have never mentioned the L-word, Rogue.”

  “My apologies,” Rogue said, feigning a bored air.

  Pagan narrowed her eyes at her, all too aware that Rogue couldn’t see her from this distance. She continued her silent stalking to sneak a look into Erith’s room. She found no sign of Erith’s presence in the empty bedroom. She didn’t know if that brought her any kind of comfort.

  “Call it a night, Sentinels,” Melina announced in their ears. “Nothing is happening, so you might as well return home.”

  Pagan looked again through the window. “Where is she? It’s four a.m. She should be in bed.”

  “As should you,” Rogue said.

  Pagan nodded and reluctantly moved away.

  It wasn’t until both she and Rogue were on ground level that she saw the woman she had been looking for. Pagan ducked back against the alleyway between the buildings and observed from the cover of darkness. Erith rode past quickly on her bicycle, her legs pumping to keep up speed. She skidded to a halt beneath her building and dismounted. Erith shouldered the bicycle and began to walk up the fire escape. Pagan watched as Erith got to the ledge outside her room and then carefully eased her bedroom window open. The bicycle was pushed through the open frame and then Erith climbed in after it. Pagan waited for just a moment longer until the muted light from the window was distinguished. She heard Melina in her ear.

  “Can you come home now that you know she’s home?”

  “On my way,” Pagan replied. She jogged down the street to catch up with an already moving Rogue. She glanced back only once to make sure the light didn’t come back on and to assure herself that Erith was indeed home.

  “Pagan, have we mentioned before that personal feelings cannot enter a Sentinel’s field of operations?” Melina asked with a detectable smile in her voice.

  “I’m merely putting my own mind at rest that tonight the occupant of that room is safe and sound.”

  “Nothing personal at all, eh?” Rogue’s voice came from before her.

  “Purely professional,” Pagan said.

  Rogue grunted. “I can’t help but hear that damn L-word in that tone. What say you, Sighted?”

  “I would have to concur. My monitors are picking up some curious readings coming from the young Sentinel. I fear her hormones are in an uproar.”

  Pagan puffed at them both. “If I ever find out what a lesbian utopia is, you two are so not invited!”

  Chapter Ten

  There was a part of Pagan that didn’t want to see Erith that morning. She was curious as to what would keep her out so late into the night. She knew that her own timekeeping was a little odd, but she had the Sentinel duty as an excuse for traversing the city at night. She wondered what had kept Erith away from home, or what had happened to negate the need to get away. Her own theories were too frightening to contemplate.

  She found Erith at her desk in mid yawn. Erith quickly put her hand over her mouth to hide her tiredness.

  “Good morning, Pagan. Excuse me for nearly swallowing you. I overslept and I’m playing catch-up this morning.” She waved a hand in the direction of the chair by the desk. Pagan ignored it and instead crouched at Erith’s side.

  “How are you feeling today? You seemed a little out of sorts yesterday.” Pagan decided to broach the subject head-on and deal with any fallout she might encounter from Erith.

  “Must have been a time-of-the-month thing,” Erith said lightly. “Just let it go, Pagan O. Everything’s okay.”

  Pagan gave Erith a face that she had learned well from Melina. She was heartened to see Erith shift uncomfortably.

  “So, what made you oversleep?” Pagan asked.

  Erith shrugged, shuffled her papers loudly, and set them down in a tray. “Rough night. I get them sometimes.”

  Pagan knew she wasn’t going to get anything further from her. She stood and heard Erith’s soft chuckle. Pagan frowned.

  “While you were crouching, I forgot just how tall you are,” Erith said.

  “Does it bother you that much?”

  Erith shook her head and put a hand on Pagan’s arm. “I like it. It’s kind of cool.”

  “Cool?” Pagan smiled. “How so?”

  “It’s like being protected when I’m with you.”

  “I would protect you, Erith.”

  “You know what? I think you would. If I needed protection, which I don’t.”

  Pagan nodded as if in agreement. “Of course not. Something tells me you’d be pretty darn tenacious on your own without needing help from me.”

  Erith puffed out her chest. “You’d better believe it.”

  “Care to join me for an early lunch?” Pagan asked, unsure if Erith would accept her invitation. “I’m on my way to another job and just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

  “I’d love to.”

  Pagan gestured for Erith to precede her as they left the office to go enjoy the midmorning sunshine outside. Erith stopped suddenly, causing Pagan to walk right into her. Erith grabbed at Pagan’s arms to steady her.

  “I wondered if I would see you again.” She looked up at Pagan shyly. “After all, the car lot is now alarmed to the hilt with your high-tech equipment. We’re just short of being body scanned before we step inside to work.”

  “I was worried I’d made you mad after yesterday,” Pagan said.

  Erith shook her head. “No, no, you didn’t. I just get… Don’t worry about us, okay? You and I are fine. We’re better than fine.” Erith hugged Pagan to her. “We’re becoming the best of friends. Nothing can change that. Right?”

  Pagan held Erith close and relished the feel of her in her arms. “Nothing can change that.” Pagan wished her heart would calm down. She feared Erith would hear its thundering.

  Erith pulled back out of Pagan’s hold. Pagan swallowed hard under the steady eyes sweeping over her.

  “You aren’t that tall after all,” Erith mused. “You’re a huggable height, and I get to lay my head on interesting places!” With a cheeky grin directed at Pagan’s chest, she grabbed for Pagan’s hand and led the way.

  Pagan felt as if her feet weren’t even touching the ground. Full body contact with Erith and I lived to tell the tale, she thought giddily. She dazedly followed Erith, wishing she could tell her how she felt and ask for another hug. All in the name of science, of course. To test the theory that her heart didn’t really miss a beat when she felt Erith pressed close to her, that her blood didn’t really race at lightning speed and make her feel light-headed. To prove that Pagan had never felt anything as sweet as being held by such small arms that hid so much strength. But Pagan kept silent and just followed Erith’s lead outside to find a spot to eat, pretending that her whole being was not crying out for one more touch. Pagan had had too much practice in not hearing things. The urges of her body were just something else to turn a deaf ear to for now.

  The rough seating area outside the office was oddly quiet as Erith accepted the sandwich Pagan offered her. As Erith’s baggy sleeve slipped up her arm, Pagan saw a series of red marks on her exposed flesh. Erith hastily pulled her sleeve back down. “I fell off my bike,” she explained quickly. “It’s no biggie. It happens sometimes when I ride to work. Traffic’s a bitch.”

  Pagan shook her head angrily, resisting the urge to grab Erith’s arm and look more closely at the bruising. “They are bruises shaped like fingers, Erith. Unless you’re telling me someone grabbed you off your bike, I would have to say you’re lying.”


  Erith’s eyes widened at Pagan’s blunt words, and then narrowed defensively. “Gee, Pagan, I never figured you for the investigative type. Just leave it, okay? It doesn’t concern you.”

  “It does if it hurts you.”

  “Why, Pagan? Why should you be so bothered about a scrappy little thing like me?”

  Pagan studied Erith’s posture, heard her belligerent tone, and saw the defensiveness that blanketed it all. She recognized the stance of someone who had been beaten down and yet still managed to stand and wait courageously for the next blow to land. Someone who didn’t recognize her own worth or see that she could be valued by another.

  “Why?” she asked with a small smile. “Because you’re my friend and I happen to care about you.”

  Erith sat motionless, staring at Pagan. “I haven’t had many friends who cared.”

  “You’ve got one now.”

  Erith sighed and seemed to reach a decision in her head. Shielding herself from any other prying eyes, she rolled up her sleeve, showing Pagan the full extent of the damage. “My dad got a little drunk last night. He doesn’t know his own strength sometimes.” She pulled her sleeve down to hide the bruising once more.

  “Does he get drunk a lot?” Pagan asked, her eyes fixed on the area where Erith was hurt. The marks there burned onto her brain and fueled her anger.

  “About as many days as there are in a week.”

  “Does he hurt you a lot?” Pagan steeled herself for the answer.

  Erith chewed at her bottom lip a little, gnawing away at the soft flesh. “Not as much as he does my mother. But once she’s down, I’m the next target.” Erith rubbed a hand over her face. “Just another sparkling entry in my journal of existence,” she said flippantly. “It’s okay, Pagan. I’ve lasted this long, a little longer won’t kill me.”

  Pagan didn’t hear the near silent “I hope” that Erith whispered. Instead Pagan read it on her lips and saw it etched in her eyes. Then Erith changed the subject, and Pagan graciously let her lead the conversation away from hurtful things.

  When lunch was over and Pagan couldn’t drag out her time with Erith any longer, she reached for her wallet and drew out a card. She took a pen from her pocket, wrote her number on the back of the card, then slid it over to Erith.

  “This is my business card. I’ve put my personal number on the back. If you need me, any time, day or night, you call me.” Pagan tapped on the card to emphasize her words. “Any time.”

  Erith picked the card up and looked it over. She ran her fingers lightly over the embossing. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “I have to go.” Pagan was loath to leave but had other duties to perform. Without thinking, she tucked a loose strand of Erith’s hair behind her ear. “Take care, okay?” She froze as Erith captured her hand and pressed it to her cheek. The warmth and softness of Erith’s skin burned through Pagan’s palm.

  “I will. Careful is my middle name.” Erith slowly let go of Pagan’s hand.

  Pagan stared at her briefly before she had to tear herself away. The responsibilities of her job paled in comparison to the fire that lit up Erith’s eyes at Pagan’s touch.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pagan fastened up her jacket and shifted around to make the bulky covering fit more comfortably. She picked up her mask and paused in mid task. Beside her, Rogue finished tying up her boots.

  “What’s bothering you, Pagan?” Rogue asked, her soft inquiry drawing Melina’s attention away from her station at the mass of computer screens.

  Pagan opened her mouth to answer, then hesitated. She turned to look back at Melina who was waiting also, then down at Rogue’s expectant face.

  “You can tell us anything,” Melina said.

  Pagan looked down at the mask in her hands and made her decision on whether she could keep silent or not. “Erith had marks on her arm today.”

  “What kind of marks?” Melina asked.

  “Bruises, handprints.” Pagan held up a hand and mimicked a tight grip. “They looked like grab marks. She’s got really pale skin so the marks stood out on her arm.”

  “What did she say about them?” Rogue asked.

  Pagan rolled her eyes. “At first she said she’d fallen off her bike, but I called her on that excuse and told her she was lying.” Pagan blew out a small puff of breath. “Then she told me her dad did it. That when he isn’t taking out his frustrations on her mother, he turns them on her.”

  “The aftermath, perhaps, of what you saw that night through her window,” Rogue said.

  Pagan nodded. “I don’t think this time she got away quick enough. I can only imagine how much it must hurt. The bruises looked so angry. He must have gripped her really tight to leave evidence behind of it.”

  “Do you feel she is in danger?” Rogue asked.

  “All I know is she is being hurt and she doesn’t deserve to be.” Pagan fastened her mask in place.

  “No one deserves it, Pagan,” Melina said. “I think you should check in on her tonight. Like you weren’t going to check in on her building before you came home anyway.”

  “There’s just something about her,” Pagan said in a whisper.

  “We’d already reached that conclusion,” Rogue replied.

  “I don’t like her being hurt. No one deserves that, especially her.”

  “Then we’ll have to make sure she isn’t anymore,” Melina said. “There is the little problem of her father being a part of our city’s newest crime gang. But we’ll deal with that when it raises its ugly head a little higher. For now, we’ll concentrate on dealing with Erith alone.”

  Rogue nudged Pagan from her thoughts. “You really are worried about this woman, aren’t you?”

  Pagan nodded. “I saw the fear in her face as she tried to hold her father back from her bedroom door that night. I saw the same fear again today as she tried to shrug off his abuse as a drunken occurrence. I have seen him face-to-face and witnessed his hold on her through fear and anger. What kind of Sentinel would I be to ignore such an obvious cry for help?”

  “She might not want your help,” Rogue said.

  “Then she can turn down the Sentinel if the Sentinel is called in. I won’t take that personally, but as her friend I will be there for her.”

  Rogue patted Pagan’s arm and looked over at Melina. “How did we ever raise such a noble Sentinel?”

  “I don’t honestly know, given that she had your influence,” Melina replied saucily and laughed at Rogue’s affronted look.

  “You and I will talk later,” Rogue said with a growl as she leaned down to kiss Melina’s smiling lips soundly. She pushed a chuckling Pagan toward the elevator doors. “You’re supposed to be noble. Stop giggling.”

  “Hey! Sentinels do not giggle,” Pagan said as the elevator doors slid shut.

  *

  Chastilian’s towers were framed against a backdrop of stars. The moon hung heavy in the sky, lighting the rooftops in a brilliant silver hue. A police car stood idling in an alleyway, its lights on low, casting more shadows than shedding light into the darkness. Rogue stood in one of the shadows waiting for Sergeant Eddie Cauley to make his move. When he finally got out of his car, Rogue stepped forward and greeted him.

  “Good evening to you, Sergeant. What brings you out at such an unsociable hour?”

  Cauley held up a handful of files. “I told your Sighted I had come across some old files documenting the reign of terror perpetrated by one Xander Phoenix. It looks like someone is killing off his old gang members.”

  “So there is a connection between the last two deaths?” Rogue was pleased to have the Sighted’s findings validated by the police’s investigation.

  “Miller and Quaid both ran in Phoenix’s gang. Bear in mind, though, he was just beginning, but he started with such an explosion of power that his crimes seemed to come out of nowhere fast. He escalated from extortion to murder in the blink of an eye, and thankfully, because of the Sentinels, he was caught before he coul
d continue.” Cauley gave Rogue a considering look. “My father knew one of the Sentinels back then. He would never tell me his name but refers to him as ‘that great man.’”

  Rogue knew her father would be pleased to be thought of so highly by the chief of police who still ran the department and gave his support to the Sentinels of this generation. “Names aren’t important as long as we fight against the same darkness that threatens Chastilian.”

  Cauley nodded. “Still, I’d love to meet the woman behind the voice of the Sighted I speak to.” He grinned a little sheepishly. “She sounds beautiful.”

  Rogue stood a little taller, knowing it was Melina he spoke of so highly. “I’m sure your wife and various offspring would be agreeable to you meeting with some other woman on the strength of her voice.”

  Cauley let out a surprised bark of laughter. “How do you know about my family? Ah, the Sighteds, of course. So it’s true. They really do have eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “Rest assured, the Sighted who has captivated your ears has a partner who worships the very ground she walks on.”

  Cauley’s eyes narrowed a fraction and then he smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” He handed over the files. “These are copies I made for you. Also”—he opened one file and withdrew a photograph—“I had this copied too.”

  Rogue held the photograph up to a strip of pale light in the alley. She searched the faces of the men captured entering a restaurant. She recognized it immediately. “This is the Last Port in the Storm restaurant.”

  Cauley nodded. “We think this was taken by Mr. Osborne, the only proof we have of the gang threatening his business. Sadly, he died at their hands, as did his wife. But this photo shows five gang members and one Xander Phoenix.”

  “It’s hard to make out the faces of the rest of the gang, but I recognize Miller and Quaid from their mug shots.”

  “Do we need to reinforce our firewalls at the station?”