“Are you, ah…” he mused, sliding his ID card through until the door beeped and unlocked. “Will this be okay?”
I raised a brow before walking in. “Has Minnie been breaking confidentiality?”
He jumped, and I was sure his head would have hit the roof if I’d been any more blunt. “No! Of course not, she would never. I just…well, I can tell when she comes home. June is always hard.”
I swallowed as I made my way behind the oak desk in the room, a large two-way mirror giving us a view of the real action.
“I’m doing fine, I promise,” I sighed as I ran my fingers along the table. “Just need to get this mission over with, and we’ll be back to business as usual.”
Reed and Leo remained silent, and I was grateful. I didn’t want questions, didn’t want their prodding or curiosity. Nightmyre PD was my territory—I’d be damned if the VIA stole that from me, too. Joon always said that we’d be the ones taking from them, one day. That he’d rise to the top, dragging me with him, and we could fix the system together.
“We’ll make it so they see everyone as equals,”he’d said.“Heroes shouldn’t be put into classes. Your ability isn’t less than mine, Alex. They can’t put a value on Variants. We can show them.”
Joon had shown them something, but not what he wanted. He’d shown them that he’d die for them, and I showed the VIA that I didn’t have it in me, after all. I was the coward, and Joon would always be the perfect Hero. It hadn’t hit me until now. I was about to come face to face with Villains; ones that were connected with the same organization that caused Joon’s death. There was no room for mistakes, no room for melancholy or regrets.
My throat swelled, and my chest went tight. Sweat began to form on my palms as I stared at the ground. When was the last time Gabriel had anyone mop the place?
Smudges covered the white tile, and I wasn’t sure if it was from scuff marks or coffee that had been spilled and never cleaned correctly. My heart pounded, and I started counting the small squares, staring into the grooves. It was easier to fixate on my surroundings—counting threads or tiles was the only way to stay out of my own head, sometimes. Minnie called it a grounding technique; I called it avoidance.
“…Alex?”
A sharp ringing filled my ears, and my scalp started to tingle.
Thirteen rows, and fifty squares per row, then that makes?—
“Sloth,” a low voice ground out.
I snapped my head up, venom on my tongue. “What?”
Leo’s eyes were dark, intense, and fixated on me. Insecurity clawed at my back, and the hair on my arms stood on end—could he see me spiraling? Could he tell that I was drowning? Didheever drown? I didn’t see it; I couldn’t see my pain reflected in him. Leo was stone, as always.
But he blinked, and something flickered in his eyes when he opened them again. “Answer the question.”
“What question?”
He jutted his chin toward Gabriel, who had a stack of files already in his arms and a set of keys between his fingers. “I was wondering how many you want to see. Are you sure about this? I know your ability can take a toll?—”
I shook my head frantically, pulling my shoulders back as if it’d give me some sense of authority. “All of them.”
Gabriel’s eyes softened as he frowned. “You don’t have to push yourself.”
“I’ve got it. The sooner we get this over with, the better. I want to see all of them… please.”
After the fifth interrogation,I’d started nodding in and out of sleep. Reed and Gabriel took turns reviving me with smelling salts, but they weren’t enough. I held a tube beneath my nose as my eyes drooped—the smell didn’t even register. Gabriel had muttered something about getting something stronger before rushing away, and had yet to return. How long had he been gone? I was anxious to get to the next prisoner, ready to bedone.
A lukewarm cup of coffee was clutched in my other hand, a pitiful excuse for a pick me up.
“Alex,” someone whispered beside me.
I stared into the pitch black mug and wondered where the cream had gone. Had I surpassed it entirely? It didn’t matter. We weren’t getting anywhere, and my brief glimpse of confidence had faded entirely. I was good before. Dahlia was right—I’d completed missions no one else could, been the kind of Hero that people didn’t expect, the kind of Hero that Joon was proud of. Sure, I wasn’t on the battlefield going toe to toe with Villains, but Ibrokethem.
But that was before Joon, before his sweet words and whispers of encouragement disappeared. Before I’d let the upgrades on my equipment slip and stopped practicing with my ability. Every contract I’d done since his death had been simple, easy. A way to get by, pay the bills, but not enough to make any real change or challenge myself.
After hours of interrogation, I had nothing to show for it. No one talked; no one uttered a single word that could be helpful.
The VIA put its trust in the wrong Hero. Maybe that means they’ll discharge me for uselessness.It would have been easier that way.
“She’s tired; we should stop now,” another voice sounded beside me.
