A Savage Spell (The Nix Series Book 4)

up on the guards was not a good idea if you liked your face free of bruises. “George.” I said his name long before I was within reach of a closed fist or a backhand.
George lifted his face guard as he turned toward me, standing at the opening to one of the previously empty rooms. Its occupant had died the day before. His body had been dragged out in front of me. I wasn’t supposed to see it.
I can help you forget that sight. Do you want to forget?
I shook my head, but George didn’t seem to notice or maybe he was used to me reacting to things he couldn’t see or hear. Maybe he knew about the voice in my head.
“You think you can reach him? Calm him down like you do the others?” he asked.
The smell of urine wafted through the door as I drew close, competing with the industrial cleaner that had been used on the floor just that morning. “I want to try,” I said. “He’s young. I feel bad for him.”
“Well, you’ve got until the doc shows up to sedate him,” George said.
I slipped into the room, edging past him and the other guards. “Make sure the camera is recording. You don’t want to get in trouble for that.”
“Shit, I always forget. Thanks,” George muttered, then snapped an order and sent one of the other guards off running to the control room.
I crouched beside the kid and scooped him up so his head was in my lap. I bent over him, my hair falling in a vivid blond wave that hid my mouth from being easily read by anyone, cameras or not. This was where it got tricky. The fingers I could always feel inside my head were there, but they were not paying attention. They were distracted. Not for long, but I had this moment and I used it to full effect.
“If you’re awake, don’t open your eyes. Squint them.”
A soft squint followed.
“Listen to me and do exactly as I say if you ever want to see the light of day.”
Another squint.
“Let them believe you are broken. Give them what they want.”
His eyes opened then.
“Camera’s on,” George called out.
The fingers tightened as if they realized they had not seen something they should have.
“Do you understand?” I said softly, louder than before. “You need to let the doctors help you. They will help you.”
The kid swallowed hard. “And what about you?”
“I’ll be around.” I forced a smile to my lips again. Something in me rolled, the part that had to stay hidden deep, far away from the surface. Like an undertow in the ocean, it swirled hard and dangerous under the surface of the calm water.
A leviathan that was not happy that it could not come to the surface.
“I’m your friend, kid. I need you to let me help you too. Think you can do that, Cowboy?”
He blinked up at me, fear thick in those blue eyes that hadn’t seen enough years, that wouldn’t see any more years if he didn’t do exactly as I said. “Yeah. I can do that.”
I slid him off my lap. The effects of the Tasers would take a bit to wear off, and there was nothing I could do for him right in that moment. He would have to wait. It wouldn’t be long before he was given his own handler. Soon as the doctors gave him the clean bill, he’d be passed off.
Standing, I turned toward the door. George watched me, his eyes far too considering. “You talk to the doc lately?”
I shrugged. “No need. You want me to do a voluntary session?” I offered the words in a calm, neutral tone. Compliant.
George watched me for another beat, brown eyes unreadable in that almost too soft face. His gaze stayed on me long enough that the smallest trickle of sweat started down my spine. I worked to school any emotions, any errant thoughts. My own handler was still not fully focused on me; the difference was subtle, but there.
“Nah, you’re one of the good ones, Fiona. I like that about you. You make my job easy.” He gave me a wink and then waved his hand for me to leave the room.
“Good luck, Cowboy,” I said over my shoulder. “Do what I said, and you’ll be okay.”
The kid’s jaw flexed then softened and he lowered his eyes. “Yeah. Sure.”
Damn it, he was already forgetting that the guards had taken him down in a matter of seconds. His ability couldn’t protect him from Tasers specially calibrated to knock out our kind.
My handler was back online.
You aren’t really an abnormal.
“Of course not,” I murmured.
I stepped through the doorway, heading back to the chow station. As I got close, the clatter of dishes, murmur of voices, and smell of bland, barely seasoned food floated to me as the others ate their lunch. My stomach rolled, unhappy with the thought of the food available.
“You not hungry?” A guard at the edge of the hall touched his earpiece and gave me a look. “Stomach ain’t happy?”
I nodded, used to the intrusion in my mind, used to them knowing exactly what I was feeling as my handler passed on information to the guards. “I’m going to lie down. Should be fine by dinner.”
Across the hall, Esther stood from her table and waved me over. I shook my head and pointed back toward the dorms, motioning that I was going.
I had to have a moment of quiet, I had to . . . no. Not yet.
Breathing through my nose, I turned on my heel and headed back the way I’d come. All the way past Cowboy’s room, from which I heard a muffled yell.
“Damn it, kid, don’t fight them,” I whispered, meaning every word. The soft approval of my handler washed over my mind, and I hurried my feet.
My doorway beckoned and I slid through, closing the door behind me with a soft click. I stripped out of my pale blue pants and top, and