by J. L. Murray
"About what?" I said.
"He got a call from the mayor demanding he take you off the list. Said she’d have him fired if he didn’t do it."
"The mayor, huh?" I said.
"Niki, how’d you do it?"
"I’ll have to tell you another time, Ron," I said. "I’m sorry, but I’m on a case. I just came for my guns."
"Well, watch your back. Perry’s out for your blood."
"What else is new?" I said.
"Not like last time, Nik. Last time he was only mad because he thought you embarrassed the Department. Gabe Condry was a big deal. When you got to him first, that made him mad."
"And he set his undercover dogs on me. No offense."
"None taken," said Smithy. "But to be fair, you were the one that confided in an undercover officer that you had superpowers."
"They’re not superpowers, Ron," I said.
"Well, whatever they are, they’re illegal. I can’t help it and you can’t help it. But Niki, this time, Perry, I’ve never seen him like this. I’m worried."
"Don’t worry about me," I said. "I can take handle Perry."
"Like you handled him before?" He sighed. "Just watch out, okay?"
"Promise," I said. I looked down at my hands. "How’s Eli?" I said.
"He’s good," said Smithy. His voice was gentler. "But he’s not the same, you know? Why don’t you talk to him? He’s out now, but he should be back in an hour or so."
"I can’t," I said. "I’m really busy today." I smiled at him. "Just came for my guns."
Smithy nodded, but he looked sad. "Working already, then? Good for you. You always were the best. I won’t keep you any longer then." He turned towards the counter. "Officer Fick, please retrieve Ms. Slobodian’s property." He turned back to me. "I have to go too. Sort of a crazy night."
"What’s going on?" I said.
"Judge was killed last night. Politicos are all scrambling around to keep it quiet. Probably shouldn’t have told you that," he said with a wink.
"I won’t tell," I said.
He shrugged and smiled, as if that were a given. "Weird one, though. No forced entry, no violent struggles, she wasn’t bound or gagged. She was just killed somehow. We’re testing for toxins and whatnot."
"Why do you think it was a homicide?"
"Because whoever did it cut out her heart when they were all finished with her."
"I guess that does make it suspicious."
Ron stood up. "Good luck, Niki," he said. "If anyone deserves a second chance it’s you." He bent down to give me a hug. He smelled of stale cigarettes and bad coffee. "And between you and me," he said into my ear, "the Registry can kiss my ass." He left through the same door, and I saw him stop to let Fick pass, panting under a large box.
"How many guns does one dame need?" said Gage, as he carried the boxes to his car.
"As many as she wants," I said, opening the door to the backseat. Gage shoved the boxes inside. We climbed into the front, Gage in the driver’s seat.
"Where to, sis?" he said, starting the engine.
I took a breath. "Prison. Let’s go see my dad."
Chapter Four
It’s an understatement to say it was strange walking right into a maximum security prison like we owned the place. Gage and I flashed our little pieces of metal at the guard manning the metal detector and he got all nervous like we were the damn Secret Service. I didn’t know what sort of magic did something like that, but I could really get used to it. A lot easier than batting my eyelashes and trying to sweet talk. That got old real fast, not to mention it didn’t work on most women. And some men, for that matter.
After a good ten minutes of fumbling keys, stammering when he responded to us, and tripping on his own feet, the guard turned out to be a friendly and informative guide. He even eased up after a while.
"Name’s Craig, if you wanted to know," he said. "Louis Craig. Friends call me Lou." We were walking through the general population, but something was off. It was unnaturally quiet. In my experience when things get quiet, something bad is about to happen. I expected to see prisoners mopping floors, pushing carts, guards pacing back and forth and looking ominous. All the television show stuff. I’d seen my dad here before, on two occasions, but we’d always seen him in the visitor’s area. I’d never actually been in the prison itself. I peeked into a cell. A large bald man with tattoos stared pensively out, sitting on his cot. He followed me with his eyes but didn’t move. In the next, a Hispanic gentleman was sleeping.
"Is this normal, Craig?" I said.
"Lou," corrected Gage.
"Whatever. It’s the middle of the day and it’s dead quiet. Is that ordinary for this place?"
Lou shook his head. "You know, it’s hard to say anymore. I don’t understand most of what happens round here. Warden’s made a lot of changes lately and he’s been acting real strange. Lot of funny things happening, you know?"
"Like what?"
"Like he fired half the guards for no reason. Some real good guys, too. Just fired them. Then the prisoners got sort of, I don’t know, docile, I guess. And a good number have come up missing. Not escaped, just gone."
"When did the firings happen?"
Craig shrugged. "Couple weeks ago, I guess. We don’t really do anything anymore. Just shuffle the prisoners around, and stand around making things look official. Anyone mentions it to Jeffries, though, they’re stuck without a job. This ain’t no time to be unemployed, I don’t need to tell you two."
"Tell me about it," I said. "So Jeffries, that’s the warden’s name?"
"Yep." Craig buzzed us through a gate, taking us out of general population. We descended a metal set of stairs. "Always been a greasy little bastard, if you’ll pardon me for saying so." He looked at me. "This is all confidential, right?"
"Absolutely," I said.
Craig relaxed a little more. "Anyway, he’s been bragging up a storm lately. Coming into the break room during shift change and boasting about how he’s real tight with the mayor. I can’t see the mayor ever wanting to hang with a lowlife like Jeffries."
I raised an eyebrow. That was the second time today someone had mentioned the mayor to me. Smithy said the mayor called Perry. "I think I’d like to speak to this warden," I said. "Know where I can find him?"
"He’s usually in his office," said Craig, "but he won’t be in today. Maybe tomorrow. Made some fuss about an important meeting or something."
"Anything else weird happen in just the last few days?" I said.
"Yeah, Jeffries cleared out solitary. Said not to ask him why. Most people here are getting real nervous about their jobs, so no one did."
"Solitary? Why do you suppose he did that?"
"Well he mostly cleared it out. Only one guy left down there. And he’s got his own personal guard. Real punk ass kid named Bailey."
My stomach clenched slightly. I knew what was coming, but I had to ask anyway. "And who would that be?" I said.
"Guy you came to see. Alexei Slobodian."
We finally passed through the gate leading to solitary. If the rest of the prison was quiet, it was a damn library down here.
"This place is giving me the willies," said Gage. "The more I see the less I want to be here."
Craig snorted. "Try working here. It’s like waiting for the scary part of the horror movie all the time."
"Where’s my d--, er, Slobodian?" I said, catching the slip. Craig didn’t seem to notice. I didn’t think that it would affect Craig’s helpfulness if he knew I was related to the most famous Abnormal criminal in history, but in my experience it never helped.
He motioned. "All the way to the end," he said.
"Isn’t solitary supposed to have big metal doors with little slits in them for food trays?" said Gage, eying the cells that looked like all the other cells in the prison. "This looks pretty social to me."
"Used to be Death Row," said Craig, "until New Government told us we couldn’t execute any more. They just take the really bad o
nes away on trucks now. Course they’re trying to re-institute the death penalty now."
"Only on Abnormal prisoners," I said. I couldn’t help the bitterness dripping from my voice. We walked in silence for a while, which was better for me because there were ghosts down here, and plenty of them. I had gotten past the general creepiness of seeing dead people everywhere I went a long time ago, but here in an abandoned prison wing it was unsettling to see all the ghosts in the cells and walking past me in the corridor without a sound, just staring at me as I walked by. I knew better than to ask if the men could see them. I knew what their answer would be.
A shadowy figure leaned against the wall up ahead. At first I thought he was another ghost, but Craig nodded at him and Gage was looking at him, so he must have been real. He walked toward us, a distinct limp making his body jerk with every step. He met us away from the last cell. He was wearing sunglasses even though the florescent light was dim and there weren’t even any windows in the cells. There was something strange about him. He was standing right next to me, but it was like he wasn’t there. Then the next second he’d seem more solid than I was. There was also a sort of buzz coming off of him, something I could feel in the air. Looking at him was like that feeling you get when someone is watching you, only you’re doing the watching.
I looked away from the guard and closed my eyes for a second.
"You okay, sis?" said Gage.
"Fine," I said. I tried looking at the guard again, puzzled. Was he just an Abnormal, trying to keep his job? Craig had said they were cracking down and firing just about everyone.
"Bailey," said Craig. "These people are here to see the prisoner. They’re official."
"Official," said Bailey. His voice was nasally, like a Brit doing a bad impression of an American. "How interesting." Gage showed the kid his badge, but instead of going all lazy-eyed, Bailey just gave sort of a sneer that I assumed was supposed to be a smile. "What can I do for you, sir," he said. He was standing directly in front of Gage, his feet spread, his arms crossed on his chest. It would have looked menacing if Gage hadn’t been about twice as tall as him. The two men snickered, but I didn’t. There was something wrong about the kid. But if he was an Abnormal just trying to survive, I didn’t want to out him in front of his coworker. I forced my mouth to stay closed.
Gage narrowed his eyes, examining him. Could he see it, too? "Step aside, kid," he said. "We need to speak to the prisoner."
Bailey looked at me. I had the feeling he was scanning me, though I couldn’t see anything through his dark lenses. After a moment a smile spread across his face. "The prodigal daughter," he said.
"Stand aside, please," I said. To my surprise, he did so. "Mr. Craig, could you wait here, please?"
"Sure, sure," said Craig, though he eyed Bailey distastefully. Feelings of sympathy as a fellow Abnormal aside, there was something about Bailey that was terrifying, though I had no idea what it was.
"Come on, Niki," said Gage, nudging me.
"Something weird about that kid," I said in a low voice when we were far enough away.
"Yeah, no one likes a punk," said Gage. "Wonder why a kid like that went into security."
"No, I mean I think he’s an Abnormal or something. Did you feel it?"
"Something strange about him, that’s true enough," he said, frowning. "Almost like he’s..."
"What?" I said.
"Ah, it’s stupid. It can’t be true, he’s obviously human. But when I first saw him, I could’ve swore he felt like a demon."
"Felt?"
"You know, like you can just tell if someone’s rich, or depressed and whatnot? I’ve known a lot of demons. I can just tell. But they don’t look human. ‘Cept for the Halfers, but they’re rare."
"Half demons?" I said. "How does that happen?"
"Do the math, sis," he said. "He’s not a Halfer, though. Maybe you’re right, maybe he is just an Abby."
Alexei Slobodian was standing at the cell bars waiting for us. His hair was gray now, he had crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and he was painstakingly thin. His eyes looked hollow and he moved like every motion exhausted him. He smiled when he saw me, like I was an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while.
"Sasha," I said. I never called my father Dad. It had always been Sasha, his nickname. Our family’s never been sentimental.
"Nikita," he said, his voice warm but his gray eyes staying just as cold as they always did. "You are even more beautiful than your mother."
I narrowed my eyes. This was not going to be easy for me. "I don’t want to talk about Mom with you, Sasha.. I’m here on business." I had to grit my teeth. This day was turning out to be a constant exercise in suppression for me. I looked at Gage. He seemed to register that I could do this without him. He backed away and eased his big body onto a nearby folding chair that Bailey must have brought down. It creaked under his weight, but held him.
I looked back to my father. "Who is this man?" he said. "A boyfriend?"
"No," I said. "He’s my partner."
He rolled his eyes. "Och, this job of yours. I have heard of it, from Sofi. We are allowed to talk, and she used to write to me, and tell me about you. Why you do not find a man, Nikita? Get married, have children. You are a beautiful woman."
"Because it’s not 1950," I said. "Look, I need to ask you some questions."
"I thought you were on the Registry, Nikita. How is it you are working?"
"Does it matter?"
"A father likes to know his daughter," he said.
"A father should have stuck around," I said sharply. I stopped myself, made myself smile. "I’m sorry, Sasha. My employer took me off the Registry. Happy?"
"Employer? Who is this you are working for? You cannot end up in here, Niki. It is not for a woman."
"This is a men’s penitentiary," I said. "Besides, I don’t work for crooks. Don’t worry about it, okay?"
"Okay," he said, putting his hands up in surrender. "I only worry about you. I see you in the papers, during your trial. It was not fair to you."
"No," I said. "But nothing’s fair anymore," I said. "Not even the law."
He began laughing.. "Especially not the law," he said, and his thin ribcage shook violently as he laughed.
"Will you answer my questions?" I said.
"Of course," he said. "Anything." His face was the pure essence of a father’s love. Half-smile with his head cocked to the side and hands folded as if in prayer. But his eyes: nothing. No emotion about me whatsoever. I was willing to wager that he’d been practicing that expression for years. Alexei Slobodian didn’t experience any feeling unless it was about himself.
"Are you the only Summoner in the city?"
The confusion was real enough, as well as the suspicion that followed. He narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
I shrugged and leaned up against the wall with my shoulder. "You’ve probably already heard that someone tried to bust into Hell last night," I said.
"Tried? Don’t be coy, Nikita," he said. He’d dropped the Daddy dearest act. "That is not what I heard. The way I hear it, they succeeded."
"And how does one hear things locked away as solitary’s only inhabitant?" I said. "I’m curious."
He looked smug. "I may be locked up, Nikita, but I am never helpless. What are you really trying to ask me? If it was me? How could it be? I am stuck here thanks to dirty politicians."
"Well, they had some pretty good reasons," I said.
"Perhaps," he said. Now he was being coy.
"Well, have you heard of any other Summoners?"
"Who are you working for, daughter?" he said.
"Why?"
"Because men are never what they seem to be." He was looking at Gage, who was immersed in his big book. "Maybe you do not really know what you are looking for."
"I can take care of myself," I said. "I always have. I’m a Slobodian, remember?"
He nodded. "Yes, yes you are," he said, his gaze returning to me. "And this makes me worry more. We are not c
areful, we Slobodians."
"Come on, Sasha," I said. "Who else is summoning these days?"
"Do you know what they let out?" he said.
"They let out a Dark," I said.
"A Dark Spirit," he said. "Very dangerous. Murderous. The only thing it loves is killing and pain. They lock them deep in the pits because they like to slip into people’s bodies. Does not matter if human or demon."
"What do you mean ‘slip into’?" I said.
He frowned. "I cannot think of the word. You know like the movie with the little girl with the spinning head?"
"They possess people?" I said.
He snapped his fingers. "Yes."
"Peachy. So these Dark things, they’ll start killing?"
"It is a sure thing," he said.
"How long before they start?"
He shrugged. "It is very tiring coming up out of the pits. The Dark will want to rest for many days. A week, maybe."
"How do you know all this stuff?"
"I know many things," he said. "You can never really know a person, Nikita. I have many secrets."
"I don’t doubt that."
"There is time still to walk away from this job," he said.
"No, Dad, I can’t. I need the money. Sofi’s in the hospital again."
"I know," he said. "She is old, Nikita. You have to let her go. Do not kill yourself for a sick old woman."
"I suppose I should just leave her behind?" I said. "Like you did with Mom? Like how you left me behind?"
"Someday you will understand," he said.
"I’ll never understand that," I said. "I don’t want to understand."
Chapter Five
The hospital was just a few blocks from the prison, so I asked Gage if we could stop off there for a bit.
"No problem," he said. "I love cafeteria food." I was pretty sure he was being serious.
I left Gage at the entrance. He had his satchel and headed to the cafeteria. I took the elevator to Sofi’s room on the sixth floor. She looked about the same as the last time. Her hair was falling out in clumps and she had bald patches all over her head. She was startlingly thin, even for her. Her birdlike bones jutted out under her nightgown and she had a sheen of sweat on her face even though the room was freezing. Her eyes were closed and I could see tiny veins bright red on the surface of her eyelids. I sat down next to her in a large padded chair.