Page 43 of A Shade of Myself
I continued down the hallway to where it ended in a T-junction. A group of people stood outside a door to my right chatting quietly. I couldn’t hear them, but there were both men and women of different ethnicities and ages ranging from about midtwenties to maybe sixty. None of them wore any kind of uniform, but they shared a certain flinty-eyed hardness.
Turning away from them to my left, I hurried toward the sole door at the end of the corridor, glanced over my shoulder to ensure no one was watching, and slipped inside. I gasped, the sound landing like a train rushing past in the unnatural silence.
The room was filled with humans in cages barely big enough for the people to stand in and maybe an arm’s length across. Was this a nightmarish petting zoo or were these poor individuals like unwanted pets to be put down?
The cages that were occupied glowed brightly, the enclosures made not of metal but magic, while the empty ones were shadowy impressions of bars. I ran over to the closest cage and dropped the cloaking in front of my face so the imprisoned woman could see me. I didn’t want to become totally visible in case this room was monitored.
“Don’t be scared. I’m here to help,” I said. “How long have you been here?”
The elderly woman stared at me with glazed blue eyes under a fluff of white permed hair, trying to communicate with me, but there was a sound barrier on the cages, and I couldn’t hear her.
All the prisoners were relatively clean but there was no sign of bedding or food. My shadow scythe half formed in my hand under the cloaking but I forced the magic down. I had to be smart and conserve my energy for when I needed it most if I was to help everyone.
Unfortunately, there weren’t any locks on the cages and without knowing what kind of magic they were made of, I wasn’t about to touch the bars.
Yet again, I cursed the fact that I couldn’t just take them through the Kefitzat Haderech, but even if the KH led to hidden spaces, any Ohrists in the bunch would be killed by the phantom skeleton there. I wasn’t sure it would be all that welcoming to Sapiens either.
I ran through the row of prisoners searching for the child. In a cage in the far corner sat a short man with red hair, wearing the clothes I’d attributed to the boy. He was alert and furious, smacking the bars and yelling, even though no sound came out. Every time he touched the bars he was shocked backward. The air stank with electricity from the charges.
I felt marginally better that the demon had kidnapped a short man and not a child, but the fact was I had to get out of here and alert Nav and his people about what was happening because I had no way to free them myself.
How could the Lonestars allow this abomination to happen in their territory?
When I felt in my pocket for the token to get back on the ferry and across to the Park for help, I found Giselle’s necklace. Swearing softly, I put it away. If I coerced Goth Girl into checking it for magic, I’d give up any chance of rescuing these people, but I’d also taken on this job and promised Giselle answers. She deserved to know the truth about her situation. Everyone did.
I shook my head. My priority was to rescue these people and then find another demon to examine the necklace.
“I’ll be back,” I promised the short man, unsure if he could hear me.
He doubled over, coughing. Other prisoners were doing the same, some trying to cover their faces.
A faint smell of rotten eggs wafted out of the vents. I bolted for the exit, the room swimming and the door growing farther and farther out of reach. I reached for the knob, my arm elongated and weaving like a python. Whoa. I pressed a hand to my forehead, sweating and clammy at the same time. My steps became wobbly and slow, but I pressed on until my legs buckled and I hit the concrete on my knees, my magic falling away.
I dimly registered the sharp pain of impact through the foggy haze blanketing my brain and the stream of tears blurring my vision. Swaying, I crashed onto my side, a pair of thick-soled, knee-high boots with heavy silver buckles coming into view a split second before my eyes rolled back into my head.
“Demon,” I slurred and blacked out.
I came to cuffed to a table in an interrogation room. My head was still woozy from whatever drug or gas they’d pumped into the air when I passed out.
“Let me out!” My words were fuzzy and my lips and tongue felt too fat.
“You’re not in a position to demand anything.” Goth Girl entered, slamming the door behind her.
“You messed with the wrong person.” The words were slightly gargled but she got the gist.
The demon dropped into the chair across from me, entirely unconcerned. “Do tell.”
“Harm me and there won’t be a corner of the earth you can run and hide in.”
“Got a regular cavalry coming to help, do you?”
“Yeah.” I leaned over the table as far as my constraints allowed. “Lonestars, vamps, shifters, demon hunters. You’ve messed with the wrong woman. Now let me out.” Better. I sounded mostly normal.
She stared at me a moment, then shook her head, her eyes glinting dangerously. “Did you assume I’m a demon based on my tattoos and piercings?”
“No, I assumed it because you abducted an innocent person.” And partially because of the other stuff.
Goth Girl grabbed me by my shirtfront. “It’s not enough that I had to put up with Satan worshipping cracks for years, you think I’m an actual demon?”
