Legacy: The Girl in the Box #8 (2 page)

“You won’t forget this, I trust?” The man knelt down, and the sound of fracturing bones got louder for a moment as Wolfe felt his elbow break as well. “I’m going to give you enough pain so you remember it. I don’t know that I’ll ever cross your path again, but I want you to recall, to tell others, in case they do. Tell them I beat you. Tell them I broke you. Let them know that I was the one who did this to you.” The man smiled, and Wolfe felt a sick feeling in his stomach as the man’s hand retracted. He felt the pain—the weakness—shoot through him, forcing him to stay down like one of his own prey. “Time to start building my own legend, I suppose.”

“Who ... ?” Wolfe croaked. “Who are you?” His voice came even raspier than was usual for him, struggling as he was for breath. A searing pain in his ribs flared as the man kicked him, causing him to float through the air again and regain consciousness, this time in a bed of thistles.

“I suppose I should tell you, since I am building a reputation,” the man said when he realized Wolfe was awake again.
Is that the look I have when they wake up? It is such a sweet moment ... how ... how am I ... ? This is all wrong, not supposed to be the one being watched, looked at, stood over while in agony ...
“You wouldn’t know my old name, so I suppose I’ll need a new one.” The man stood up straight, put his hand over his mouth, tapping his index finger idly upon his upper lip as he thought. “Something ... distinctive. Something that gives me my due, that lets you know who I am.” He leaned over again. “See, I stand apart from all of you. I’m different. I don’t want what you want, or what the others want. I don’t need anything. If you’d left me alone, we never would have met because I wouldn’t have bothered to seek you out.”

“Who ... ?” Wolfe heard himself rasp again, “... are you?”

“Good question,” the man said, and looked around. “Wait. I think I have it. I’m apart from you, from the others, from these countries and monarchs. I’m my own man—a man apart, really.” He smiled. “A man unto himself, independent of all others.” He nodded. “Yes, I think that will do nicely.”

Wolfe blinked at him, and blood slid into his eye, causing him to close it. “What ...?”

The man looked down at him, as though he’d forgotten Wolfe was even there. “Oh, yes. If they ask ...” He peered down, then smiled. “As badly as I’ve hurt you, I suppose it’s more of a ‘when’ than ‘if’ ... When they ask, tell them ...” He slammed a fist down into Wolfe’s ribs, causing him to sit up violently, a noise of shattering bones breaking filling his ears over the sounds of his own screaming.
How? How? Wolfe is ... unbreakable ...
The smell of his own blood, for once, was thick in his nostrils, mixed with the greenery of the forest. His vision was clouded, and the screams of pain in his own head were so loud he almost missed what the man said next. Almost, but not quite. And it stayed with him for all the rest of his days.

“Tell them it was Sovereign who did this to you.”

Sienna Nealon

Now

The handcuffs were heavy on my wrists: heavier and stronger than ones I had encountered before. I stirred, moving my hands, and heard the clink of the metal rattling as I shifted position. My chair was made of the same metal, and I was staring at four blank walls of old concrete. Even if I could get loose of the handcuffs, those walls would hold me in for a time.

I stirred again, rattling the cuffs. There were two pairs on my wrists and two rounds of ankle cuffs keeping my legs from doing much moving. The smell of stale, heated air filled the room, annoying me. An FBI agent named Li had ambushed me at Customs in the Minneapolis airport with a SWAT team arrayed in front of me like a firing line. If I had moved or done anything untoward, he would have smoked me. So I let them cuff me and haul me off in the back of a van, against my every instinct.

I studied the empty room that they had placed me in. I’d been here waiting for at least two hours, according to my internal timekeeper. After years of being imprisoned in much tighter confines than this, I had developed a pretty decent sense of time. I stared at the one-way mirror in front of me, giving it a hard look that I hoped would convey my dissatisfaction with my current predicament without giving away the fact that I was deeply, deeply nervous. I kept my hands still, my eyes as slow in their movements as I could, left my face expressionless, and just sat there like I was at the dullest event I could possibly be attending, all while experiencing a bout of lethargy. I based my performance on the workers I had seen at the DMV when I’d gotten my driver’s license. I hoped it worked.

I kept my breathing calm and controlled and poured my energies into keeping the voices in my head calm and orderly, not in a cacophony.

This was a surprise,
Zack said.

Ya think?
I asked him in reply, all sarcasm. I didn’t have to speak to do it now, I just concentrated hard on forming the thought behind the words, and I could feel him in my head, receiving it. I had just gotten my metaphorical ducks in a row, had a plan of action, and there I go getting jailed. I’m a regular 24601.

All the Little Doll’s past sins have come home to roost like chickens,
Wolfe said, and I could sense his grin.
But not as tasty.
I shut the mental door on him, not impressed with his attitude. While it was by no means perfect, I had a mental image of holding pens for him and all the others, perfect little boxes that I was familiar with from the time I’d spent in it. I’d built one in my head with a thought and threw the voices in my mind inside whenever I needed a respite from them.

If anyone has any brilliant ideas for escaping,
I said,
I’m all ears.
I frowned.
Or brain, since I’m not actually listening to you.

If you were all brains, you wouldn’t have let yourself get caught,
Eve Kappler said with a malevolence all her own. I rolled my eyes before I caught myself and the sound of her little box getting slammed shut followed. I thought I could hear her screaming in protest somewhere in the distance, but that faded quickly.

You’re at their mercy now,
Roberto Bastian chimed in.
Gonna have to wait to see how they want to play it.

They haven’t come in to question you and it’s been hours,
Zack said, and I could sense his thoughts swirling around, mixed with my own.
That’s ... unusual.

What are the odds I walk away from this through legal means?
I asked the question.

I heard a cackling from Bjorn and slammed the door on him as well. You’d think one of them would learn from the others, but apparently I got stuck with some real dumbasses. Which was unsurprising, given that my luck always seemed to run in a southerly direction.

Not good,
Zack answered me, and I could feel him cringe.
Agent Li ...
I sensed his hesitation at the use of Li’s name,
... is a pretty serious guy, and he read the charges to you right at the outset.
There was a pause.
He’s definitely not bluffing. He’s terrible at bluffing.

“Wait,” I said aloud then shut myself up after a quick, darting look around the empty holding room, as though I could see anyone looking at me. Stupid.
You know this Agent Li?

Zack’s hesitation was short-lived, but it spoke volumes.
He was my roommate at the University of Minnesota in my junior and senior years. He doesn’t mess around. Smart, capable, and straightforward. Like I said, he doesn’t bluff. If you haven’t already been charged with the crimes he listed, then they’ll be filed shortly. I’m just surprised he hasn’t come in to question you yet, especially given that he seemed to know that you’re a succubus and that you murdered five people.

Including you,
I said.
He accused me of murdering you.

There was a quiet in my head, the three who were left uncaged not wanting to say anything. Finally Bastian broke the awkward tension.
Well, technically, you did—

I slammed the door to his box, and he took it like a man, no bellyaching. I could almost see Gavrikov and Zack staring at me from the mirrored surface of the one-way window that I was facing. Their ghostly forms were standing nervously behind me.
So, how do I get out of this?

Zack’s face got a strained look.
Just wait. Play for time. Where you are right now looks pretty damned untenable, especially with those cuffs on.
I stirred again, putting some pressure on the cuffs, but I couldn’t get any leverage on them at all. Certainly not enough to find out if I could damage the metal.
Since you probably can’t beat the system—Li said you wouldn’t be getting a lawyer—that leaves escape, which you can’t really do at present. Which means you have to wait until they give you an opening. Be ready for it.

I felt my eyelid twitch from the tension. Only the littlest part of me wanted to cry, but it was still a powerful call. I felt desperate at the thought of losing my freedom, having it taken away from me by these men. The fact that my entire subsection of the human species was being wiped out at this very moment and I was the only one organizing a resistance made it all the worse. I took a breath that was far more ragged than I would have liked and tried to stabilize my breathing, slowing it down, calming myself. It was working for now. I damned sure wasn’t going to cry here, though this was potentially scarier to me for some reason than the idea of being in a fight that could kill me. If I died, it was all over. But murder was a life sentence, and at eighteen years old and with a metahuman life span, that was potentially a very, very long time to be imprisoned.

I wanted to punch the walls, to break the concrete, to shatter the glass in frustration, but I held back. Reckless anger had gotten me here, after all. I thought about the people I had murdered, whom I’d been accused of killing. Really, Li didn’t know the half of it. Parks, Clary, Eve, Bastian and Zack were just the tip of the iceberg for me lately. Thankfully he didn’t know about my recent activities in London or they would have probably added another dozen to the charges.

I blinked.
I forgot about those guys over in England. Breandan, Karthik, Kat, Janus and ... Reed. And Scott!
I felt a surge of panic, wondering if he was still waiting outside the airport for me. I questioned my internal timekeeper again, wondering if I had really been sitting in this chair for two hours. My ass answered me with extreme discomfort in both cheeks as I shifted my weight around. There was no more comfortable position, unfortunately, just this one. And this one sucked after two hours.

They’ll be all right,
Zack said.
They’re a resourceful bunch.

I felt my expression waver, emotion almost breaking through the facade.
They need me. There’s no way they can fight Weissman and Century without me.

I could almost see Zack’s wan smile in the one-way mirror.
Maybe they won’t have to. Or maybe they’ll be able to do it. Reed could rise to the occasion and take over.

I raised my hands and rubbed my face. “No,” I whispered.
There’s something about me that make me important. That makes me a threat to Weissman, that makes me important to Sovereign. They need me for ...
I started to shrug but stopped myself and feigned a stretch,
... something.

But you don’t know what,
Zack said calmly.

And I won’t find out sitting on my ass in this cell, either.
I shifted in my seat again. There was no comfort to be had there.

But you can’t get out right now,
Zack said, trying to be reassuring.

I felt my internal temperature rise.
People are dying. Metas are dying, right now. They’re being wiped out in South America, and probably North America soon. We don’t have time to be sitting here. I don’t have time to waste, to throw away just staring at ghostly faces in the mirror.

His faint smile vanished.
Well, there’s nothing you can do—

I could rip apart this chair,
I said, letting the anger build in my mind,
snag it behind my back and heave it through the damned window, following behind it by a second and pounding anybody in the next room to mutton.
I visualized it, jumping through the air and slamming into someone with my shoulder, rolling to my back and using my meta strength to launch back to my feet while striking someone with a vaulting kick as I did so. Then turning with both hands balled tight into fists, smashing them into someone’s gut, sending them flying into the concrete wall where their skull smashed into paste—

You ready to kill cops?
Zack asked me, snapping me back to reality, to the cell, to my ass still sitting sore on the chair.
You ready to murder men just doing their jobs—

Them doing their jobs is keeping me from doing mine,
I raged at him and saw him start to fade.
And the stakes are a hell of a lot higher for the world if I don’t get out than they are for them if I stay here.
There was a dull roar of blood rushing in my ears and I knew my expression was far from calm, now.

But you can—

Forget it,
I said and slammed the door on Zack, locking him away.
I’m not in the mood to argue with you.
I took another breath, steeling myself to carry out my plan of attack, when something Janus had said before he’d been wounded came back to me.

 ... a monster wouldn’t care ...

I slowly relaxed my muscles, resting my backside on the chair, certain my expression was still surly. I heard the clink of the handcuff chains as I released tension I didn’t even know I’d put into them, letting myself go slack and going back to controlling my breathing. Breathe in, breathe out. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Just like Mom taught me. I looked inward and saw Aleksandr Gavrikov still there, the only one I hadn’t locked away in the recesses of my mind. He was quiet, dead quiet.
Well?
I asked him.
You got anything to say?