Super•Villainous

LIII

"I see..." the Constable mused. "Dear girl, surely you had your suspicions before then? It didn't once cross your mind? I find that hard to believe."

I felt my hackles rising at his tone, and my fingers curled into my palms atop my thighs. "Am I being accused of something? What does any of this matter? I'm a victim here! I want to leave, and I want to talk to my family, but you dragged me into this room without telling me anything! What's the point of talking to me at all when you already caught him? Nightshade, I mean. Please," I turned my entreat on Tempest for the first time since he entered the room, "just let me go home."

But he seemed strangely unswayed, almost... upset?

"I'm afraid we can't do that quite yet," the Constable said.

"And why not?"

His knowledgeable grin, perfectly crafted to make me feel small and so terribly young in the face of his apparent wisdom, didn't waver, and he lifted his hands in surrender, shaking his head. "Peace, dear girl. Peace. We are on the same side. We, too, want you to go home, but not before we get a few answers. It's better this way, to get it out in the air before the finer details start escaping you. Time will do none of us any good here."

I wished he would stop calling me "dear girl," and I also wished I could smack that condescending smile into memory.

A flash of Ren's pearly white teeth out of my periphery, followed by a cough to cover up his snort of amusement reminded me that he was listening in on my every vengeful thought. In what I presumed was an act of great mercy, he neglected to share those less than kind impulses.

I let out a frustrated breath, trying for patience. "I'm sorry I didn't register my powers earlier, okay? It was wrong and illegal, but I don't think it warrants this level of interrogation. It's just a bit of healing. I can't cause any harm with that, can I?"

"You think I care about you not registering your power?" Almost subconsciously, the Constable's brows rose up his forehead and he glanced to Ren for confirmation that my concern was genuine. "Let me put your mind at ease, then. The register is an insult to those who are empowered, and it is not my dishonor or jurisdiction to enforce it in the first place. I know many an unregistered Thaumaturge, and, so long as they aren't ostentatious about it, they don't get caught. So no. I don't care that you can heal yourself. This is about you healing him, and how that came to pass. How much you know. How he found you. What you do for him. Et cetera."

"But," I repeated, "you already caught him. What more can you possibly want from me?"

I managed to make my voice crack, like the situation, in addition to my past circumstances, left me feeling overwhelmed, but failed to make myself cry. I was simply too angry, nearly shaking from it.

"You can imagine he's been less than forthcoming. Atticus, for all his fine breeding, is terribly stubborn. Must run in the family. I don't imagine the Courtens will donate any more money to keep the Guild running when they find out their golden child is rotting in our prison... Oh!" He made a show of remembering something, but he was a better superhero than actor. "That's right. You know the Courtens, don't you? I've heard from Tempest here that you're actually quite close with their daughter. Curious how that worked out. Very coincidental, wouldn't you agree?"

It had indeed been coincidental, though I saw none of them believed that, not even Tempest. Ezra. My friend turned boyfriend turned ex-friend, apparently. If he couldn't hold out faith for my innocence, false as it was, no one would.

"If you think I've been — been cavorting with my kidnapper, just ask him." I jerked my chin towards Ren. "He's been reading my mind from the very beginning, from the first time I met him, right? There's no other reason for him to have been my Guild liaison after my first abduction. Surely he saw that I honestly had no idea about, well," gesticulating wildly, I finished, "anything.'