“Get on your knees and put your hands behind your back, Ms. Redding,” the guard said to me.
“What?” I backed away from the cell door.
“She didn't do anything,” Rain growled.
“Shut up, Dralmar,” the guard sneered. “Do it now, Ms. Redding.”
I got on my knees and put my hands behind my back. A paintball hit my arm and exploded, dripping that evil concoction down my forearm. I grunted as my magic winked out. If the cell doors hadn't been remotely controlled, I would have tried to drain my guards and snag a key. But these people were professionals when it came to dealing with supes; they had all their bases covered. The guards waited a few minutes before opening my cell door and entering. Even though they were assured that my magic was suppressed, one of them aimed a gun at me while the other handcuffed me. Then they yanked me to my feet.
“Where are you taking her?” Rain demanded.
The guards ignored him as they escorted me away.
“I'll be okay, Rain,” I called back to him. “Don't worry.”
They took me into the elevator and up to the building above where a Jeep was waiting for me. I was driven to Bishop's house, sandwiched between guards in the back seat. It was night again; Bishop had said a few days but it had only been one. I had no doubt that this visit was in response to the debacle of that morning. He would assume I had done something to those supes, and he'd be right. But there was no way for him to guess exactly what I did, and I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him.
I was handed over to Bishop's personal guards and taken back to the same room I'd visited before. They pushed down onto the same chaise lounge. How boring. Then, finally, a small deviation from the routine; one of Bishop's well-dressed guards removed my handcuffs and stepped back just as Bishop entered the room.
Bishop grinned broadly as he sat down in his wingback chair. “There was some excitement this morning.”
“Yes. Was that your way of intimidating me?”
“The prisoners get some time out of their cells every week just to stretch their legs since we can't give them time in a yard,” Bishop answered without actually denying anything.
“Stretch their legs and kill each other so you can get some good footage,” I amended his statement.
“Killings are rare.” He cocked his head at me. “Usually they just beat on each other a bit. But today, that Dralmar went on a rampage and it appears—from what little footage we have—that he did so for you. You've been here less than a day and you already have men killing and dying for you, Ms. Redding. Color me impressed.”
If only I could see his colors, I wouldn't have to take his word for it.
“That Dralmar is a gentleman, unlike a certain man sitting across from me. I can't imagine what he's imprisoned for,” I drawled, leaving out any mention of the Fury since Bishop hadn't seen his involvement. “This is a supe prison, is it not?”
“It is,” he readily admitted.
“Would you do me the courtesy of assuaging my curiosity? I cannot work out how you fit in here. Are you the warden?”
“Me?” he scoffed. “No. I'm a scientist.”
“A scientist? You sell software.”
“Can a man not be many things?” Bishop's smile turned into a smirk.
“You're the one who figured out how to take a supe's power,” I concluded.
He inclined his head as if accepting an accolade. “Americans have too many laws, even for supes. I knew they would have refused my proposal to experiment on supernatural criminals.”
“So, you came to China.”
“Where they are less hung up on things like human rights, especially when it concerns creatures who are not human.”
“They are not creatures!” I hissed.
“Oh, but they are.Youare.”
“Do you think your insult wounds me?” I scoffed. “You call us creatures when you're the one who is less evolved. Less powerful. Less magical. Just plain less. A mere human. You won't live long enough to matter.”
“I will find a way to extend my life,” he growled, his face twisting into rage.
