“You know, not that I’ve ever been questioned by police, but ‘Good cop, bad cop’ is a terrible name for the tactic. It’s actually more like ‘Annoying cop, bad cop.’”

  When we got to the precinct I had to surrender my shoes completely, exchanging them for a pair of lame ill-fitting slip-ons. Also the drawstring on my hoodie. And of course, my mom’s locket.

  It was in even worse shape than it had been on the rooftop. A couple flecks of metal fell away as I dropped it into the tray with my other smaller effects. Infuriatingly, it still seemed no closer to opening. I thought I could see a faint red light through one of the wider cracks, but I wasn’t sure.

  My runeband went into a separate tray. Whether they had a separate process for artifacts, or simply for potential weapons, I wasn’t sure. The booking officer picked the locket up, frowned at it for a moment, and passed it under some kind of scanner. The device beeped, and the officer seemed perplexed by the result. After a moment he shrugged and put the locket in the tray with the runeband.

  Weird.

  “I’m going to want that back,” I said.

  Coat Check activated.

  Whatever the hell that meant. I stopped myself before I snapped at the voice in my head.

  “Soon as you’re out, pal,” said the officer.

  I used my one phone call to give Wally the bad news, that I was screwed and, by extension, so was he. As always, he took it in a strangely upbeat way.

  “I’ve got something to show you,” he said. “Where did you say you were?”

  “It’s the police precinct for L5-I12,” I said tiredly. “I think it’s uh, sublevel 2?”

  I drifted thoughtlessly through what felt like hours of additional patdowns, paperwork, and mug shots. Finally, Jessie and her partner personally escorted me to the jail attached to the precinct.

  “Mr. Fulgen,” said Jessie’s partner, a something-or-other De la Cruz. “Just wanted you to know, I’m a big fan.”

  I regarded him flatly. “A fan? Of what, my six months of pro skidding?”

  “Yes, and I believe you about that attack and that you were screwed over. As a representative of the GPD I’d like to personally apologize for the negligence and corruption of my fellow officers, and any role that may have played in you spiraling down to this low point. From which you will undoubtedly recover.”

  I looked at Jessie, eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes. “That’s enough, Evan.”

  “Anyway, at some point, if you’re willing, it would be an honor if you would give me your autograph.”

  “I just signed, like twenty papers,” I said. “Rip it off one of them.”

  “That’s very frugal of you, however GPD procedures—”

  “Shones, Evan,” Jessie groaned.

  “Sorry, Corporal. Some other time, Mr. Fulgen.”

  I looked back and forth between them again, and I smirked. “He seems like your type, Jess.”

  De la Cruz flushed and stammered. Jessie gave me her signature hall monitor “you’d-better-have-a-bathroom-pass” murder stare. Amazing how little some things change over the years.

  We passed several other officers in the hallway, conversing or going about their business. As they noticed our procession, some of them glared or sneered at me as we passed. One group applauded, and I heard cries of “Yeah, Faxton!” and “Go Elites!”

  About halfway down, one of the officers lunged toward me, shouted “Screw you, Red!” and spat in my face.

  Jessie’s hand lashed out like a snake, and she caught his ear like an angry mother before he could straighten. “Is there a problem, officer?” she growled. “I just filled out a whole stack of forms to book this little shit I caught for you ingrates! But I’ll still gladly write your ass up for assaulting a suspect in the middle of a damn precinct! Is that clear?”

  The cop shrank back against the wall, clutching his ear and trembling. I wondered vaguely how the Elites fit into the chain of command around here. Did they automatically outrank any normal beat cop? Or was this just Jessie being Jessie and having a Jessie-like effect on anyone she confronted?

  The other officers became a lot more engrossed in their other conversations after that.

  “Guess I know what I’m doing the rest of my shift,” Jessie muttered.

  “You think the regs will try something?” asked De la Cruz.

  “Hard to say, but I don’t want to chance it. They’re all wired up, ‘Red’ has been pissing them off for months, and Jett isn’t any less infuriating without the mask, as you might have noticed.”

  “Aww, looking out for little ol’ me?” I asked.

  “Either that or I’ll finish you myself,” Jessie groused. “Either might leave the world a better place, so don’t tempt me.”

  Soon I was locked in my cell, sharing a bunk with a large bearded man who was snoring away on the top mattress. An officer walked briskly past with a bag over his shoulder. I heard Jessie whisper “No, Evan, let me talk to him alone.” A moment later Jessie was staring at me through the bars, her arms crossed.

  I shifted my seat in the lower bunk, making the springs squeal. “You were serious? You’re freaking guarding me?”

  “The regulars are fired up,” Jessie said flatly. “I hope they calm down after the novelty wears off. I see you still have a talent for pissing people off to the point of violence.”

  “And I see you’re still monitoring halls.” I smirked, but there wasn’t much steam behind the jab. “What can I say? Inspiring apoplexy is one of my many talents. Would you believe this isn’t even the first time today I’ve faced a crowd that wanted to kick my ass?”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “The Frozen Lady? What the hell happened there?”

  I pointedly laid down on the cot and put my hands behind my head. “I thought I had the right to remain silent?”

  “Consider this off the record. I made my report honestly, but I’m not looking to make things easier for the regulars. Because you’re not a violent criminal. Right?”

  I sighed. “A guy pulled a gun on me. I got it away from him and emptied it into the ceiling. That was my ‘involvement’ with the ‘shooting.’ End of story.”

  “Troy Maddux? He’s in the ICU. Had to have emergency surgery.”

  “Wonderful, more on my conscience. I hit him a lot harder than I meant to when he pulled the gun. My uh, runeband must have overcompensated or something. Am I in trouble for that too? What happened to everyone else?”

  “Charges are still being decided. The racers are all locked up in a precinct on level 4, not far from Squid’s.”

  “Squid?”

  “Turned himself in, asked for amnesty for everyone else.” Jessie bit her lip. “Especially you.”

  “Of course he did.” One more thing I’d never forgive myself for. “Any chance I can talk to him?”

  “Maybe in a day or two. He was your manager a couple of years ago?”

  I nodded. “He’s probably the reason I didn’t end up here sooner.”

  I closed my eyes, thinking I’d end the conversation there. But then something else occurred to me. “Did you pick up, or happen to see a young girl with a hybrid stick? Maybe thirteen, fourteen?”

  “Hmm.” Jessie touched the side of her head. “I don’t think so?”

  That was interesting. Jessie, Squid, and myself had all been affected by… something. Some kind of mental aether? From a kid?

  Jessie shook herself and continued. “Anyway, what happened? In the bigger sense? You were a troublemaker back in school, sure. You also went through some real trauma, and trust me, I know what that’s like. But I still had this sense that you were going… somewhere. The skid pros seemed perfect for you. But then all that drama happened and you left, and then this is how you turn up again? I mean… what is it, Jett?”

  I could feel my face burning. My fists clenching. Tears forming. I looked at her. “You know something, Jessie? I’m living exactly the life I deserve to live.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I keep screwing things up, and good people keep paying for it instead of me. My mom, my best friend, and now Squid.”

  Jessie worked her jaw. “Jett, your mother? Your family was attacked. You were twelve. You can’t blame yourself—”

  “You didn’t see what happened!”

  Jessie raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t press the issue.

  “And every time I try to accomplish something good I sabotage it. It’s like I’m cursed.” I swallowed. “I’ve used up all my words, Jess. If you want more than that, get me a lawyer.”

  Brick ran his fingers along his bald head. He didn’t look bad. He was hardly the first black man to pull off the shaved look with finesse. But it was so damn alien. He sighed and checked his watch. He was parked in the visitor lot of the Dimna Institute on level 5. His partner still had a few minutes before she was supposed to meet him. He felt horribly conspicuous.

  A window shattered. Brick leaned to his right to try to get a better look. He thought he could see which window it was, on the third floor of the building. Something small fell from it, splattering into a flowerbed. He looked at the Mantis’s profile again and shuddered. He had little doubt what that object was.

  Sirens sounded in the distance. Damn it! This Mantis psychopath was overdoing her escape. She’d been cut loose and was on a full-blown killing spree. Were innocent people dying there? Should he go in and do something? Could he do anything? If the profile was any indication this woman was an order of magnitude more powerful than him. Maybe more powerful than most other sorcerers. What had he gotten himself into?

  The double doors at the front of the building slammed open, and a woman in pajamas with short lavender hair stalked out, gripping a headless body under the arm. The man was–had been–more than twice her size, yet she carried his corpse easily with one hand. She tossed it over her shoulder, and it splattered against the steps of the building. Incredibly, she only had a couple small splatters of the stuff on her face and clothes. She almost sauntered now as she approached the car, her bare feet padding on the sidewalk.

  Mantis immediately opened the back door, snatched the garment bag off the clothing hook where Brick had hung it, and snapped, “Look and I’ll kill you.”

  Brick backed up and pulled out of the lot at a decent clip, trying to keep well ahead of those sirens but not wanting to attract too much attention. He held his gun up to his shoulder so Mantis could see the barrel. “You sure you won’t try to kill me anyway?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” she said lightly. “I went through the off-the-leash exercise, same as you. I know I wouldn’t get away with killing other employees without cause. Besides, I only kill men who attack me. And before you ask, I won’t try to provoke you to attack me either.”

  “I wouldn’t be provoked.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  Brick heard the rustling of a plastic bag, then she slid easily into the passenger seat, now dressed in a suit that matched his with a gun on her hip. “So, who the hell are you?”

  “Name’s Brick.”

  “Class?”

  “Uh, Rune Tank. And I have an energy shield ring.” He already knew her class from her profile. Ice Destroyer. Whatever the hell that was.

  She grinned at him. Her teeth looked unnaturally sharp in the dark. “And what is that?”

  “What?”

  “That thing in back. Never saw one of those during crew case training.”

  “It’s a failsafe. Our pay gets cut in half if we use it, so hopefully we’ll never find out.”

  “I hope we have to use it,” Mantis breathed. She smirked at the glare Brick shot her. “You aren’t curious?”

  “We are not to use it unless–”

  “Don’t be a bitch,” Mantis snapped. “I’m trying to make conversation. People don’t like to discuss my hobbies, so I chose a different topic.”

  Brick cleared his throat. With a measured tone he asked, “How many people did you kill just now?”

  “So you do want to discuss my hobbies?” Mantis’s eyes lit up.

  “I just want to know.”

  She shrugged. “Eight or nine. I showed restraint. Only one was a patient. Three were guards who tried to stop me from escaping, and I couldn’t get around them. The only ones I actually targeted were staff who pissed me off. Some of them were also cruel to patients, if that means anything to you. I know people like you sometimes feel better hearing that.”

  Brick ground his hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. Coming from you, if you’re being honest they must have been real pieces of work. But don’t expect me to praise you for it.”

  “I would never. Say, that reminds me. Do women still idolize me?”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t know? It isn’t in my file? Not all women, mind you, but some types did think I was a hero for doing what I did. Killing the types of men I did. A bunch of them even petitioned to get me released. Raised a fair number of GCreds in some online campaign. As if I were doing it for them!” She laughed. “None of my victims were good guys, but people don’t realize how much I goaded them. How much I stretched things to get my fix if my target just wouldn’t make a move. If I were a cop they’d probably call it entrapment.”

  “Are you going to be pulling that shit while we’re working? You only said you wouldn’t do it to me. Are you going to try to… find marks in your free time?”

  “Not likely,” she sighed wistfully. “Too much risk. They drove that home long ago. No, now I’ll be killing more directly.” She held up her gun and formed an aetheric ball of ice in her other hand. “Hopefully quantity will make up for quality. Speaking of which, who are we killing tonight?”

  “Our objective is to retrieve a stolen artifact. The thief just got arrested, but we have false GPD credentials ready made. If this goes right we can confiscate the artifact without killing anyone.”

  “And if it goes wrong?”

  “Then we get to take on a fire sorcerer and an entire police precinct, so you had better damn hope it doesn’t.”

  Mantis fairly shook with excitement. “Oh, I’m not hoping for that at all.”

  Brick was starting to wonder if the kill squad would have been a better way to go.