Within minutes, a black truck with a covered cargo bed screeched to a halt. Simon, a hulking white man with a shaved head slid out of the driver’s seat, grabbed my target, and lugged him over to the truck.
“Thanks, Simon,” I said, while I climbed into the passenger side of the truck. “The guy isn’t that heavy, but I just got my nails done.”
I flashed my manicure at him when he climbed in. His only response was a low grunt before shifting into gear.
Now I needed to figure out how to get this guy in the interrogation chair without the official order I ‘technically’ needed. The chief wasn’t one to skirt the rules, even if half the hunters in the field were exactly the type.
“To the office,” I said.
He grunted again.
I nodded. “Exactly. Let’s hope the chief is out.”
Chapter Two
When we climbed out of the truck, Simon stood by the bed and I waited near the rear wheel just in case the captive pulled some magic out of his hat. Though, why he would wait until now, I couldn’t say.
Simon usually did the heavy lifting moving the targets from the transport to the holding cells. To be fair, he usually got tipped big from all the hunters when the holiday season rolled around. We all appreciated his ability to withstand pretty much any abuse. And the fact he literally couldn’t force any of us into small talk.
The guy was mute. No-one knew why.
The office was set into the back of a warehouse, facing east toward the long dividing wall which separated the business area from the freeway. Lots of noise to drown out potential screaming. Lots of cinderblock to keep magic contained to a smaller radius. Lots of space...just in case. I’d always appreciated the efficiency of the building and the small functional office layout to one side of the giant room.
After Simon successfully wrangled my catch into submission, he dragged him through the door into one of the holding cells. The rooms were fortified against escape from
more paranormal creatures than I even knew existed. At least that was what the mage in the brochure said when the chief opened office.
The cells looked like giant plexiglass cubes that extended from floor to ceiling with a door the size of a small garage to one side. On any given day, these cells contained all manner of target from humans to creatures. Today was the first day in a long time a mage graced our lovely home. Now to figure out how to explain the mage’s presence to the chief when he returned.
The target wouldn’t answer my questions. But here, in private, I could be different kinds of persuasive.
Hawk, the chief’s second-in-command, stepped up and rubbed his hands together. I strategically placed myself in the middle of the walkway between him and the holding cells.
He loomed over me, a menacing grin on his face, but I didn’t back down. The great beast of a man thought he could intimidate me, and he was yet to learn it would never work. I didn’t let men walk over me, even men whose biceps were as big as my face.
He moved like he might go around me.
I put my hands up between us. “Woah, there big guy, where do you think you’re going?”
“Just give me two minutes with that bean pole and I’ll get him talking.”
I shook my head with a glare. “No, I’m going to talk to him. Only me.”
He crossed those bulging biceps over his chest and tucked his hands under his armpits. A classic move designed to make anyone feel inferior to him.
“And where exactly is your call slip for this target? I’m pretty sure neither me, nor the chief, approved one, and I know that because neither of us would’ve approved you to go after a mage on your own.”
Shit. I hadn’t worked out the exact explanation I was going to use yet.
I turned away under the guise of checking on my target. I needed to think fast, or Hawk would roll right over me, and I couldn’t have that after spending the entire day in that hell hole bar.
“You’re right, there was no slip on this guy. He’s a follow up from a case I had a couple weeks ago. I found him snooping around into our business and I wanted to bring him here and see what kind of interest we have for a solo mage.”
My story wouldn’t hold up for long. Hawk could easily speak to the chief, or anyone else on the team who helped me work that old case, and tear my excuse apart. But I didn’t need my story to hold up all day. I only needed it to last long enough to pry answers from the mage.
I turned back to face Hawk who still wore the same glowering expression. “You can check all the details you want later. I think this guy is waking up, and I want to be in there to throw him off before he can make up some story.”
I waited, holding his gaze. I wasn’t going to back down. My fatal flaw: never retreating, even when I’d already lost the fight. Or a tooth.