Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

ALAN

I jumped to my feet when the door of my cell opened. I hadn't heard footsteps approaching through that solid metal. Underhill and Poe entered. Poe triggered the door shut behind them and took up a position with his back to a corner, tapping the damned baton lightly against his palm. I'd only met the man twice, and I was already sick of that gesture.

But when he ordered, "Sit down on the bed," I obeyed.

Underhill looked me up and down. "Alan Hiranchai. Unregistered sorcerer with a specialty in fire magic."

I blinked. "Who told you that?"

"We have our sources."

"Well, they're wrong."

"You were on the scene of several fires that had magical origins. Are you claiming that was just coincidence?"

Not a coincidence, but only because I'd been chasing the fire elemental that set them, not because I had that kind of specialty. Of course, with how dry the grasses and forests were in the summer, any sorcerer could've set them ablaze. We all learned to light a candle as one of the most elementary spells.

I didn't respond, and he nodded. "I thought not. The question is, what was your goal? Was it just about seducing that burly firefighter? Or was there some deeper plot?"

"I'd be nuts to seduce a firefighter by risking his life." Although it occurred to me after my denial, that left the deeper plot option. Getting the firedrake back to its own world didn't have a lot of hidden depth, but it wasn't something I wanted to tell Underhill about.

"You're a sorcerer. Who knows what you would do? Human lives don't matter to you lot."

If that was what he believed, I wouldn't change his mind by arguing. I kept my mouth shut. For three seconds. "You've obviously had sorcerers working with you, warding this building and creating the cuff. You trusted them." I raised my left wrist where my heartbeat echoed under the silver in a throbbing ache, my power like a river dammed up with nowhere to go, turned back on itself.

"A few of your kind could be persuaded to do worthwhile work."

I wasn't crazy about how he said persuaded .

Poe commented from his corner, "And others like you can still be useful. Why did the Weaver and the Necromancer go to France?"

"Why the what?" The question made no sense to me.

Underhill said, "Thornwood and Green. They took a one-way flight to Paris four days ago. Why? What are they doing there? How long will they stay? Why no set return flight date?"

"Darien and Silas?" I'd met those two legends of the Upheavals and their familiars once, on a warm, dark evening with a ghost in it. "Why on earth would I know anything about them?"

"You call them by their first names."

They told me to. "By their courtesy, not because we're friends. I haven't heard from them in months." Darien had called a few weeks after the firedrake episode, responding to the question I'd asked Jasper about Errante Ame's Carnival of Mysteries. Darien had needed more details about the Carnival and the pair of red doll shoes that had lifted Jason and me out of the wildfire and saved our lives. Shoes which had kept showing up in my apartment, even though the Carnival seemed to vanish after it left Shadecliff.

We'd talked a couple of times afterward but had come to no firm conclusions about how or why the Carnival appeared or where it went. Jasper had found a few mentions of Errante Ame and his magical circus in a sorcerer's notes dated back a hundred years, long before the man I saw should've been alive. The mysteries nagged at me, but I'd been busy getting math and geography into twenty-three small brains, and I'd left any investigation to Jasper. The shoes had stopped appearing once I moved in with Jason.

Hey, shoes, if you're still around, I really wouldn't mind a way out of this cell. An instant later, I added, Later, when these bastards aren't with me. I had no clue whether the shoes could cross the barrier I sensed around the building or if they would even respond to me instead of Jason. Either way, I didn't want them to try under Poe's nose.

Underhill raised an eyebrow. "Thornwood and Green left a dying friend's bedside to come help you out last summer. And you want me to believe you don't know them?"

I don't. But explaining would mean dragging Jasper into this mess. If NSEP was ignoring him so far, the last thing I wanted was to set Underhill on him. "Maybe that's just the kind of heroes they are."

"Heroes."

"Yeah. I'm honored to have met them. Once. And how did you know about that, anyway?"

Poe laughed.

Underhill said, "NSEP takes interest in all sorcerers, registered and unregistered."

"If you knew back then, why didn't you pull me in and make me register?"

"Because you could be useful the way you were."

Useful. Another word I wasn't crazy about, coming from this man. "I want a lawyer."

"Too bad."

"NSEP is part of the government. I have rights."

Poe said, "Not in here, you don't."

"Where is here?"

Poe smirked. Underhill said, "You don't need to know. You will remain in this confinement until I move you elsewhere. You will do as you're told."

Never been my strong point. I wasn't a rebel. I taught third grade, and I knew the value of structure and governance. But every year, I taught my kids to cross out mistakes in their textbooks, in ink. Authority needed to be challenged when it was wrong, and I couldn't imagine much wronger than this. "Are there other sorcerers here?" Poe had said, no conversation with the other inmates , which implied there were some.

Neither man answered. The silence got heavier. The bracelet on my wrist pulsed, and I realized my magic wanted to lash out, was trying to undermine the clamp the cuff had over my power. Underhill said, "The suppresser spell is very effective, but feel free to test it. For as long as you're here."

"My friends will be looking for me." I kept my tone steady. "You can't just make people disappear in this day and age."

"Friends? Nurses and teachers and a senile old sorcerer who needs help to wipe his ass?"

And Jason. I gritted my teeth. It was good that they underestimated Erin and Dale, maybe didn't know their talents, and even Sylvester still had his moments. Jason would be coming after me, and he wouldn't come alone.

Underhill pulled a phone that looked like mine out of his pocket. "You will unlock this for me."

"The hell I will."

"You're thinking your firefighter buddy will make trouble, trying to find you."

I know he will.

"He has no hope of going up against NSEP and Homeland Security, certainly not within the operative time frame. Nonetheless, it would be better for his own safety if he was thrown off the scent. You don't want to see anything bad happen to him, do you?"

"Are you threatening to murder a U.S. citizen?" I tried to hide how that chilled me.

Poe said, "Oh, we don't need to go nearly as far as murder."

"Unlock the phone." Underhill took two steps closer. "Right forefinger on the lock button only. Anything else will be punished."

Poe tapped his baton in his palm.

I leaned forward, my hand out, as Underhill held the phone toward me, then lunged to bat it from his hand. If I can kneel on it— Fuck! A sharp pain blasted through me, arcing from my left ribs, hitting like a blow from a sledgehammer. I fell, blinded, convulsing. Every muscle cramped. I gasped for breath to scream and barely heard my own voice over the rush in my ears. Then the pain eased, but my muscles still twitched helplessly.

"Oh, dear." Poe bent over me, my tear-blinded vision showing me the Taser in his left hand, the baton still in his right. "I told you he'd go for it, sir."

"You were right." I couldn't turn my head to see Underhill, but he sounded satisfied.

Poe holstered the Taser and slipped his baton in a belt loop, went to one knee, and lifted my limp and twitching right hand. He had to try three times to make my finger hit the phone lock at the right angle, but then the screen switched over. "Done." He handed my phone up to Underhill. "Get the new lock code entered."

"Fuck 'ou." My mouth didn't work properly.

Poe unhooked the Taser barbs from my skin and all the muscles in my side cramped. He patted my head, an indignity I was totally helpless to resist, and straightened. "In your dreams, Hiranchai."

"Fuck you both with that damned cattle prod." I licked my lips, feeling a bit of the fog clear, able to turn my head.

Underhill finished working on my phone and shrugged. "We'll send your boyfriend off on a wild goose chase, and you'd better hope he takes the bait. I have no use for an ordinary human prisoner, but there are other ways to make it impossible for him to keep up the search."

"Leave Jason alone."

"I have no interest in him unless he makes trouble."

I scrabbled at the floor and managed to push myself to sitting against the side of the bed. My head still buzzed like a hive of bees had invaded, stinging me from the inside, although the muscle vibration had begun fading. I blinked, managed to raise a hand to rub my eyes, then wiped away drool that had dripped down my chin. At least I didn't piss myself.

Underhill looked down at me. "Consider that a lesson. We're always one step ahead of you, and disobedience will be very painful."

I wished I could come up with another defiant comeback, but every inch of me ached and I didn't know what good resistance would do.

Poe said, "Good boy. If Green and Thornwood try to contact you, we'll reassure them all's well. Wouldn't want them to interrupt that Paris trip to come back and interfere."

Underhill glanced at him with something disapproving in his frown. I wondered if he was bothered by Poe sharing their plans with me or speaking out of turn. Trouble in paradise? Poe had called Underhill sir, but he didn't act very subservient. Maybe I could exploit a rift between them somehow, but my buzz-brain couldn't come up with an opening.

My voice still hoarse, I asked, "How long will you keep me here?"

I didn't expect an answer, but Poe said, "Not long. Don't get too comfy." Underhill grunted but didn't elaborate.

"Will I get a lawyer when I'm moved elsewhere?"

At that, Underhill's lips twitched. "You won't need to worry about it."

Well, fuck, that does not sound promising.

They backed toward the door. I suppose it was a compliment that they kept their eyes on me. Underhill keyed the door open with a remote and headed into the corridor. Poe paused and grinned, tapping his upper lip with a finger. "Might want to clean up. You've got something on your face." Turning his back at last, he slipped out and the door clanged shut in his wake.

I licked my lip and tasted blood. Dammit.

In no rush to get up on shaky legs, I took long, slow breaths to steady my nerves. So, that happened. I hated that they had my phone unlocked. At least all my messaging was set to vanish after a day. That was standard security between sorcerers, like using Signal so we'd be harder to tap. But they had my contacts, my photos. My pictures with Jason were under an extra passcode, a leftover from his closeted days that I now blessed, but how many people were vulnerable through me?

Erin and Dale, at least, would've been the first people Jason went to, so they'd probably be suspicious if they started getting weird messages in my name. Jason would too. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to fall for the NSEP ruse so he'd be safer, or not. Clearly, Underhill and Poe had no scruples and no reluctance to hurt anyone. But if rescue was coming, Jason would bring it. No doubt with my big-sister-of-the-heart Erin at his side. Would Silas and Darien actually head back from France? Surely I wasn't that important, and who knew what lies Poe and Underhill might come up with?

Stay safe, everyone! Stay smart. Sunny was an ace in the hole, but he was a four-ounce bird. One smack he didn't dodge could kill him.

I raised my knees, wrapped my arms around them, and pressed my forehead to the fabric of my sweatpants. A headache lurked at my temples and I closed my eyes, trying to stave it off. What now? What next? My mind was a throbbing blank.

The dry, metallic taste of my mouth and a warning from my bladder eventually drove me to struggle to my feet. I staggered to the bathroom like I was older than Sylvester, peed, and ran water in the sink, scooping it to my face. The cool liquid against my hot eyes gave some welcome relief. There was no mirror and the only towels were flimsy paper. I wiped my lip and nose, feeling a dull ache but no sharp pain, then rinsed my face again. As the water splashed against the porcelain, I thought I heard a voice whispering, "Someone there?" down around my knees.

I kept splashing water and said, as if to myself, "The hospitality in this place sucks. What happened to bath towels?"

That small whisper came back, "Dangerous."

Right, that's not my imagination. I turned sharply away from the sink and pretended to slip, a leg giving out under me, leaving the water running full blast. It wasn't hard to make that collapse look authentic. Landing on my ass on the concrete added one more bruise to my collection, but I didn't care. I reached up and grabbed paper towels off the edge of the sink, holding them in front of my mouth to hide any movement as I pretended to wipe my nose, and murmured as softly as I could, "Who are you?"

"Next door. Hole by the pipe."

I kept my gaze turned the other way. "Alan."

"Oscar. Have you been here long?"

"Today. You?"

"Two years."

"F—" I pressed the towels to my mouth to muffle the word. Although I had plenty of other reasons to yell fuck . In fact… "Fuck this shit!" I shouted loud and clear toward the other room. "I'm a U.S. citizen." Maybe Poe was watching on a camera, having a laugh. Maybe someone else was, but the noisier I was on my own, the more they'd ignore from me. "You can't just drag me into a van and drive me for hours and Taser me and steal my phone. I want a lawyer."

Oscar's voice murmured, "Sorry. Same. No luck."

I flailed an arm, trying to look like someone having a breakdown. "I have a job to get back to. My boss will be looking for me. Jason will be looking for me. You won't get away with this, some stupid hideout in the Washington mountains, all those guards. Someone will know. Someone will find me!"

"Washington, huh? I was in Nevada," Oscar breathed. "The guards mean business. Guns, Tasers. Something's changing, though. Lots of action recently. I hear cars, people—" He fell silent as the water in my sink cut off.

I pushed up to my feet and played with the taps, but nothing came out. Whether they had a time limit or someone was watching, I was out of luck. "And not even enough water to get clean!" I yelled loudly. "This place sucks!" The litany of complaints I came out with made me sound like one of Jason's teen nephews, but under the mask of my voice, I made out Oscar whispering, "Later."

As much as I wanted to get more info from Oscar, I had no doubt this was a dangerous game for us to play. I dropped the crumpled towels, pissed again for a second so I could flush, and knelt to pick up my trash. "Sunset," I murmured as I scooped the paper off the floor.

"Yes," was all I got from Oscar before I staggered out to collapse on my bed, but even that one word lifted my spirits from the deep, painful basement.

Whoever Oscar was— unless this was one more trick— my enemy was his enemy. Somehow, I couldn't picture smug Poe bothering with an elaborate, slow befriend-the-prisoner ruse, with the way he loved his baton. I had no major secrets I was hiding. Surely, Oscar was the real deal.

I took comfort in that hope. I'm not alone, even in here.