I blow out a long breath, shrugging. “I don’t know. Somewhere in the city, I presume. Safe, I hope. Helena will die if they find her.”
Just then, there is a banging on the other side of the mirror.
The Daemon stills before pulling out a FaePhone from his back pocket. I watch as he reads something once, twice, then three times.
His expressions change so quickly that it's hard to interpret. He goes from being annoyed to confused to afraid. The Daemon looks up at me, his eyes flashing. It takes the Daemon two seconds to be at my side and another to release me from my bindings. He grabs my arm, pulling me with him.
“What the hell, man?” I try to yank my arm away, but he’s too strong. “Where are you taking me?”
There’s no reply. Instead, he loosens his grip on me just long enough to grab something from his back pocket.
A cold sweat appears on my neck when I realize what it is.
I really start to struggle then. My heart hammers as I wrench my arm away from him. I shove the cop aside as I run towards the door.
Something black is pulled over my head before I can take two steps. Black fills my vision as I claw at the material covering my face, but it’s useless.
“Stop fighting,” the Daemon says roughly. “You’re just going to make things worse for yourself.”
He grabs my arm once more, and I have no choice but to follow as he leads me to my doom.
The polygraph was a very, very bad idea.
28
Lethe's Unpredictable Way
HELENA
Lethe is a mix of ancient and modern, primitive and advanced, crude and sophisticated. I have spent little time in this wonderland, but it radiates an aura of unpredictability. Nothing like Aqualis, where the choices lie between being beautiful, classic, and uniform or being destroyed.
Luckily, the federal prison in The Bedrock District isn’t gauche. Far from it, in fact. While I am isolated in a cell, kept away from the other prisoners, the area is sterile and orderly. White walls, white floors, metal furniture. And yes, said metal furnishings do include a seat-less toilet. The wards have been cast with such a heavy hand that I can taste them in the back of my throat, bitter and foreboding.
My stolen outfit was confiscated upon arriving. Everything I own fits into small plastic bags with a pressed seal. I’ve traded Le Baba Morgaine for a plain, gray jumpsuit. Its fit is baggy, and the grayness is a dull insult to my vibrant skin tone.
No food has been left near my cell, so an invitation to the cafeteria has been extended.
A cell fit for a princess, my ass.
My bunk is a thin mattress with scratchy sheets and springs so prominent they bite into my back as I lay down and look at the ceiling.
This, I think,is familiar.It reminds me of being in Hallie’s home. I smile despite the tears that threaten to slip out of my under-lids. In that lonely room, with my horrible sister and her clueless husband, two little angelfish had come to whisper secrets and stories under the crack in my door.
Who would whisper to me in the silence now?
I let that melancholy thought drag me under into the tides of sleep.
* * *
Nightmares swarmthe eddies of my subconscious. Hallie, Henrick, my father, my mother… their faces flash before me and dart away towards some mysterious abyss. The water of said abyss is black and impenetrable. My heart aches.
The terrible flavor mixes with a savory smokiness that is impossible in the soggy depths. Erik comes. He fills the space around him with his large, menacing personality. The taste of him both sates me and drives me mad with hunger.
It is hard to tell exactly when my dreams mix with reality, but eventually, my eyes flutter open upon hearing a key turning the lock to my cell.
An involuntary spasm jerks my body upwards, and I anxiously stare at the generic, bulbous knob. One of the Daemons must finally be ready to take me to eat.
I abandon all attempts at straightening my crumpled jumpsuit as I hop to my feet. The figure that walks in… is not who I expected. For a moment, I think I must be hallucinating.