Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88613 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88613 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
And one of them was the man we were here to see.
We were in a processing room, where visitors first entered. There were a handful of people sitting in plastic gray chairs, the fluorescent bars of lighting casting harsh shadows on the scuffed floor. The Enforcer behind the glass barrier—a calico cat shifter with tufted white-and-brown fur rising out from the neckline of her white robe—handed us back our IDs and stood up, clicking off her computer and walking to a heavily bolted door.
“Follow me,” she said, unlocking it with a swish of her hand. I glanced at Caleb, who still looked like he was ten seconds away from shitting a pile of bricks.
“You good?” I asked him again, wanting to make sure.
“Yes. I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”
He followed the Marvel, the two of us entering a nondescript hallway and being led down its twisting path until we reached an elevator. Another swish of her hand and the doors opened. A light flickered inside of it. We stepped in, and the Marvel pressed the topmost button. The elevator gave a few false starts before it started to crawl upward. One of the walls was a clear window, which allowed us to look out at the prison as we rose in levels. I could see rows upon rows of jail cells, with ivory-robed Enforcers casually strolling past them. Some of the prisoners were being escorted in their jet-black jumpsuits, hands cuffed behind their backs with strands of harsh red mana.
Caleb gnawed at his fingernails some more. The floors kept dinging past us until we reached the top level.
“Right this way to the interrogation room,” the Marvel said. A fluffy black-and-white tail poked out of a hole cut into the robe, swishing back and forth as she walked.
“Want to let me do the talking?” I asked Caleb.
The question seemed to offend him, even though I was just trying to be helpful. I was scared that the second he opened his mouth to speak, a stream of projectile vomit would shoot out. “I’m the professional detective, remember?”
“How could I forget? You remind me quite a bit.”
He narrowed his eyes, cheeks flushing slightly pink. He was cute when he was annoyed. I tried not to think about how I wanted to grab those cheeks in my hand and pull him against me for a kiss. I wanted to know how he tasted on my tongue so I could feel the tension slide off his body as he melted into me.
And of course, that was pretty much all I could think about.
My hormones simmered down as we reached the interrogation room. It was small, windowless, with a single metal table in the center and the world’s most uncomfortable-looking chairs. This prison clearly needed a better furniture budget.
I dragged a chair back and sat, confirming that it was indeed one of the world’s most uncomfortable chairs. Caleb stopped biting his nails, instead focusing on a stain on the far wall, his gaze pinned straight ahead.
“Alright, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you or not?”
Caleb shook his head, keeping his gaze forward. “Nothing. I’m just not exactly excited about spending time in a maximum-security prison. Is that so hard to understand?”
“Caleb, I’m just looking out for you. If you’re uncomfortable, I can take care of this and fill you in after.”
He seemed to realize I was only trying to help him. The tension in his glare lessened. He looked down at his lap and shook his head. There was something soft under that prickly exterior that intrigued me. Layers to Caleb that I wanted to peel back. A Marvel who hated using their powers was a rare thing, and it seemed like there was even more to Caleb that made him different. “Sorry, I’m being extra snappy. But no, I’m okay. I swear.”
There wasn’t any more time for questions or reassurances. The door swung open, and in came the man of the hour.
Kyler Irons was a lanky beanpole of a man, wearing the same black jumpsuit as the other prisoners, the color matching the lumps of coal he had as eyes. On his forehead was a burning red ring, pulsing as though it had been freshly seared. He had a relaxed smile on his gaunt face as he sat across from us. The two Enforcers that led him in stepped back but didn’t leave the room. We sat in a loaded silence for a moment. A light blue strand of mana flashed in my vision just then. It appeared to cover Kyler’s eyes before disappearing again.
I glanced at the two Enforcers, neither of them having budged an inch. I cocked my head. Looked to Caleb. He seemed just as stressed and concerned as five minutes ago, so nothing much changed there.
But then who did that? And why?