Gardreel chuckled. “Brother, do not be afraid. She is in hand and will soon be gentle as a lamb. Do you see her sleeping?” He pointed at the monitor. “She can no more hurt you than could I.”
Ernest fought to keep his face motionless. He wasn’t sure how comforted he would be if Gardreel had said that to him. But the informant was an abnormal. He did not know the boss, or what he was capable of—he had not seen Gardreel at his worst.
The abnormal folded his arms over his chest, flexing biceps that were easily the size of Ernest’s head. A pair of overly sharp teeth peered out of his mouth, as if winking at Ernest, reminding him of what they could do should they find themselves on opposite ends of a situation.
“I’ve done my part. I helped you identify the abnormals you brought in. I helped you find others. The ones who could’ve truly fought you are all immobilized in one of your facilities. Now, I want what you promised me. You give me back my life and pretend I never was an abnormal. And you keep her”—he pointed at the sleeping woman—“off me.” Fear laced those last words.
This abnormal feared the Phoenix far more than he feared Gardreel and Ernest knew that was not smart.
Gardreel gave a slow nod. “Fair is fair. You have done this world a service. That is a reward in and of itself.” He turned just his head toward Ernest. “Will you have George bring me around this one’s payment?”
Ernest picked up the phone obediently and rang through to the head of security. “George, the boss is asking for you. Bring the box.”
“The box?” The informant shook his head, wariness creeping into his feral eyes. “I didn’t ask for no fucking box. I’ll be taking my new papers, my money, and an escort out of this fucking place. As promised.”
“It is just a manner of speaking,” Gardreel said, once more twitching with his long coat, the ends fluttering around his ankles.
George did not dawdle, for once. He tapped on the door fewer than ten seconds later, and Ernest opened it, letting him into the confined space. Of course, he’d probably seen the informant arrive, and had been waiting with the box in hand. The captain of the guard took up what little room was left. Ernest found himself pushed up against the monitors. Or maybe he’d backed up, away from the abnormal and what he knew was coming.
“Why is the little one afraid?” the informant asked, although he didn’t sound alarmed. Yet.
Gardreel smiled. “Ernest is always afraid. He is a natural coward.”
George opened the box in his hands, pointing the opening at the informant. A dark green flash of light burst out of it, catching the abnormal square in the face. He went down snarling, shaking his head, but it was too late. The deep green magic coated his face, sank into his skin, and seeped into every orifice, cutting off any chance of escape.
The abnormal was on his knees, shaking his head, trying to throw it off, clawing at his own face. He was holding his breath. Ernest pushed back farther.
“It won’t work,” George said, bending to put the box on the floor and secure a pair of silvery bracelets on the abnormal. “Captain at the mountain facility said they got one like this. Best to kill him now.” The abnormal gave a lazy lurch forward, and George pinned him to the ground with a big boot.
“Deal with him.” Gardreel waved him away. “If you think we can use him—”
“Perhaps we can,” Ernest said, his mind working through the puzzle that was the woman on the monitor. “Did he not say she was strong enough to kill one of his kind of abnormal? If in fact that is true, he would be an excellent litmus test for her strength and skill set.”
Why was he saving the monster in front of him? The answer bothered Ernest, getting under his skin.
To see if he could save another monster who intrigued him with her soft skin and dark hair.
“You see, this is why I like you, Ernest,” Gardreel said. “You may be a coward, but you are a thinking coward. Which makes you useful.”
Ernest lowered his eyes, hating how little he felt next to his boss.
“Say thank you, Ernest.”
“Thank you, Gardreel,” he said. His shoulders shrunk as Gardreel slapped a hand on the back of his neck and squeezed just a little too hard.
“Perhaps you will make captain yet.” Gardreel left the room, following George and the still struggling but mostly incapacitated abnormal.
The box remained on the floor. Wooden, with a lid that hung open, dangling, wisps of green magic trailing out of it. He knew the incantation by heart, although he could not himself produce anything so powerful. His abilities lay elsewhere. Not like the abnormals they were dealing with, of course—his abilities were a God-given gift meant to help humanity.
Yet, standing there, seeing the last bits of the spell dissipate and knowing the savage damage it wreaked on the minds of those it cleansed, he had a moment of doubt. Just one, yet it was enough to send his heart racing.
What if they were wrong?
1
Clearview Rehabilitation Center
One year later
“Lucky you, Fi, you get to take the greenhorn around and hope he doesn’t shit himself like the last one.”
I smiled over my shoulder, tucking a stray strand of my dyed blond hair behind my ear. “As always, your jealousy rears its ugly face, Shane. Hard to compete with what’s already stuck on your skin, but it manages.”
The young guy beside me shook hard, bringing my eyes back to him, a tremor that was visible even with the straitjacket that pinned his hands down and kept him from flailing about.
“Ignore Shane,” I said softly, keeping my voice even and smooth. “He’s one of those who will never leave this place. Mind you, unlike some of the others, he can at least speak. Other than that, he’s—”
“Crazy,” the young man said. I looked him over, really seeing him for the first time. He was in his early twenties, maybe even late teens. Sandy blond hair and a face that made me think he could have been an actor in another place or time with the square jaw, light stubble, and perfect nose. Not a model, he wasn’t pretty enough for that, but an actor for sure. The muscles in his neck flicked as he ground his teeth, which strengthened the hard line of his chin and the edge of danger that clung to him. No, not a model.
“Maybe crazy isn’t quite the right word, but I’ll leave it for now. It’s your first day; I don’t want to overwhelm you.” I slid my arm through the gap in his bound arms so I could help him keep his balance as we walked the facility. This was standard procedure: show the newbies around, see how they reacted.
“You don’t believe what they’re telling me, do you? That abnormals aren’t real? That it’s all in our heads?” Blue eyes latched onto mine, demanding an answer. Begging me to side with him.
I shrugged. “You want to know what I think? What I really think?”
He nodded and lowered his voice. “I know who you are.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Do you now?” Well, that was a surprise. I certainly didn’t know him, and I hadn’t thought anyone of his generation would have a clue about me. About who I had thought I was, at least. I wasn’t that person.
No, you were never a killer. Never a monster. The voice that whispered to me was not my own, but it was familiar, nonetheless. It had been with me my whole time in this place, and while not exactly pleasant, there was nothing malicious about it. What felt like fingers tightened inside my skull, digging into my mind. I didn’t fight the feeling, just breathed through it and tried to focus on the kid in front of me. Like a doctor digging out a sliver, it had to hurt if it was to heal.