Tenants and Tyrants (Book 5 of The Warden series) (17 page)

27

When the opportunity presented itself, Cori slipped out of the gym with the ever useful bathroom excuse. She knew it was a little underhanded to take advantage of Danato’s generous gift to spy on him, but this was the only opportunity in the last few months that she had to get inside his office without anyone disturbing her. As easy as it may have been to simply slip out after hours, she had neither a reasonable excuse nor the energy.

Besides all that, Belus was a habitual late worker. Even with the lights out in the office, she wasn’t convinced it was clear until she saw Danato’s chair empty. She was certain the only reason he wasn’t inside was to avoid getting roped into going to the party.

She checked the door knob and found it unlocked. She wasn’t sure they ever locked it, but she was still surprised that it turned freely. Her plans were never well thought out, so to have any part of it go well was disconcerting.

She slipped inside and debated whether to leave the light off to avoid attention, or turn it on so she wouldn’t look suspicious when someone inevitably walked in on her. She decided the light was better off, but left the door open, just a tinge, so she could hear anyone coming.

The dress she was wearing hadn’t left room for her to wear a bra, let alone hide a key. She instead pinned it to the underside of her skirt. She pulled it out and slipped it into the lock for Danato’s bottom right desk drawer. The gentle twist delivered a satisfying, click.

Cori stared down at the impending revelation with as much guilt as curiosity. She had just spoken to Danato about letting her have the freedom to get herself into trouble, and here she was doing just that. She knew whatever was in the drawer was something Efrat thought would dishearten her opinion of Danato. She didn’t want that, but she also didn’t want to be lied to.

She reached for the drawer hearing the clock tick louder. When the metal drawer squawked loose with a lamentably loud sound, the clock stopped ticking and Cori released the breath she had been holding.

When the contents of the drawer were revealed, her mental drum roll turned into a cliché game show “wa-wa-waaaaa”. The gun metal gray interior was empty. The base held a set of bars designed to hold hanging files, but there was nothing.

Cori relaxed all her tension and sat down in Danato’s chair. The uncomfortable spring that poked all who sat on it was especially salient. She looked up at the clock and noted that despite its lack of volume it was ticking normally.

She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. She wondered if there was ever something in the drawer to see, or if Efrat had only used the key as an excuse to alarm her. She wasn’t entirely sure why she let herself get so drawn in by him, but it was clear that when it came to Efrat, nothing was to be trusted.

She leaned forward to shut the drawer. The new angle from her seated position offered a view into the far rear of the drawer; a file as gray as the drawer hung innocuously in the back. She pulled it out half expecting it to be empty but it wasn’t.

Two standard manila file folders were tucked inside. Cori had always understood that the information pertaining to prisoners was free for exploration. The small and tall file cabinets were never locked and contained files for every prisoner. Though his extensive library was still where most of her education was gleaned, she had never been denied access to any prisoner files. These however were for some reason off limits and she needed to know why.

One manila folder had a big red “deceased” stamped on the cover with a date and initials written in below it. The name Olivia Nickels was typed on the side. The name was unfamiliar to Cori.

The second manila folder had no specific designation. It was by no means thick, but it did have more paperwork than the first. In no particular order, a half dozen
lawyer-fied
documents prefaced the file. She scanned them and got the rough draft of what was essentially the rental agreement for the top floor. After a double take on the monthly payment, she moved on.

Completing the file were four stapled packets, each with the name and photo of one of the elementals. She paused listening for footsteps or any sign that her transgression was about to be discovered. When no one came bounding in to stop her from reading the truth, she continued.

Cori gave the files a cursory read. They discussed the abilities of the elementals in great detail. She was certain that the details were necessary for their containment parameters. Although she was familiar with the elementals first hand, she found the paperwork even more intimidating then their persons.

The documents outlined the maximum temperature of Garr’s—or rather Garrett’s—fire power, which was well beyond her high school science level comprehension, but she imagined it was very hot. It outlined the need for his uniforms to be made of flame resistant fabric. The use of metal rings and zippers was suggested so that he could manipulate the clothing without touching it. Although tungsten was the recommended metal for the accessories, it was noted that tungsten was not useful as a long term containment device such as handcuffs.

Cori found Hirem’s file to be just as enlightening. Paul Hirem was apparently capable of temperatures matching liquid nitrogen. Again she wasn’t certain what that meant in the real world, but she did have several images of hard boiled eggs being frozen to the point of shattering during a grade school demonstration. The only specification for his clothing was no zippers or snaps. It didn’t explain the reasoning, but she imagined, the metal once cold, would stick to his skin.

Efrat’s clothing options also suggested that he wear nothing with metal for obvious reasons. However, she had only ever seen him in jeans and a big belt buckle to boot. She wondered if he refused to comply with the suggested uniform, or if Clark had.

Cori wondered why it was necessary to go to such lengths to accommodate for their clothing needs. She understood that being in close proximity to their own powers would draw the need for some attention to wardrobe, but the descriptions suggested that they couldn’t stop the power long enough to clothe themselves.

She went back over the less intelligible parts of the documents and tried to get more information about this. In several areas the documents suggested that their powers had increased beyond acceptable tolerances, but there was no justification for why it had happened.

Efrat’s file summoned up the report in much the same way as the others. “First Sergeant Efrat Alston has refused direct orders from his commanding officer, and has attempted to abandon his post without leave. He shall hereby be indefinitely contained under the conviction of deserter and traitor to his country. Remittance to this sentence may be offered if his abilities can be subdued and utilized in commitment to the United States military. Brigadier General Maxwell Clark will oversee the containment and disciplinary actions for this prisoner.”

Cori knew that Efrat had been in the military, what she hadn’t realized was that he still was. He and the others were still soldiers of the United States military being held against their will by their commanding officer. General Clark was holding them based on military statutes.

She flipped back through the files for a triple check, but she didn’t find any mention of crimes beyond not collaborating with whatever military plot General Clark had going on. Efrat and the others had not kicked any puppies, let alone murdered anyone. The only murders to speak of were those committed while trying to free themselves from unlawful imprisonment.

None of it made any sense to her. Danato and Belus took no exception to the laws of any country, let alone the military of that country. The unnamed contributors to the facility demanded only one allegiance. Protect human life and function above all else. It was the only statement that made being a part of this chaotic place noble.

Cori touched the blue indelible ink at the end of each paper cluster. Their wasn’t really anything legible about it aside from the D and the date, but she knew it was Danato’s signature. She could still feel the indentation where the pen dug in to start the line of ink.

His name shouldn’t have been there. Maybe the money was too good to pass up. Maybe General Clark sweet talked him into it. What she knew for sure, was that the Danato she knew and loved would not have allowed four prisoners to be held in his facility for six years under the guise of refusal to serve ones country.

Perhaps that was the piece that was missing. Maybe Danato wasn’t the same man as he was then. She hoped that was the missing piece, because at this point the only other option was that she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did, and that was too much to cope with.

28

Daniel found Nevia on the couch reading when he got back to the house. By the looks of it she had chosen another boring volume from Danato’s library. If she kept this up, she would be more knowledgeable on the creatures they hunted, than he was. Then again that was probably her goal.

He debated joining her or going upstairs. There was still a part of him that knew the only reason he came back early was to be alone with her, but the logical part of him knew that Nevia didn’t just say things to hear herself speak. She wasn’t a gabber like most women. If she had something to say you might want to shut-up and hear it, especially since it might save your life.

The focus that she had for her work seemed to come naturally to her. Motivation wasn’t something that came easily to him. He had spent of majority of his young life doing manual labor, and since then, he had learned to indulge his laziness whenever he had the chance. Being a hunter was a relatively posh job, with great pay, and a lot of time off, but since Nevia had joined the crew, they seemed to be working nonstop. They were bringing in criminals and deviants so fast that they even broke Ethan’s record. Again, that was probably what Nevia had intended to do.

He appreciated her talents, but it just reminded him of how much of a screw up he was. She was doing this job because she was recruited. He was doing this job because it was part of his parole.

In addition to Nevia reminding him that he was just a prisoner without bars, Heaton was reminding him that he was just a parole officer. Maybe they were never as good a friends as he thought.

Daniel neglected the stairs and resisted the urge to grab a beer out of the fridge. He sat down in Danato’s chair and waited for Nevia to get to a stopping point in her book. She must have sensed his anticipation, because her index finger raised, as if to ask him for one more minute. After her hyperbolized minute, she put her book down on the coffee table.

She turned her attention to him, and it threw him off for a moment. He was always thinking about her, trying to decide how to be around her. Bottom line he was uncomfortable as hell when he was around her, but she always seemed nonchalant like nothing had ever transpired between them. It impressed him, it pissed him off, and it made him want her all the more.

“What did he say to you?” Daniel asked before his mind got too carried away.

“He just said he was tired of hiding his scent from me, so he let me…smell him.”

Daniel waited, but she didn’t continue. “And!” he put his hands up in surrendered apology when he realized his volume had gotten away from him.

Nevia tipped her head like she was sickened that she had to give him such awful news. “You know how you always tell me you can’t talk to me about him, because that’s between you and him. Well, this is between him and me.”

Daniel could ignore, forget, and pretend with Heaton, because he was willing to keep his friendship on the rocks rather than lose it completely. Nevia on the other hand was a whole new set of rules. Either because she was new, or a woman, or because he had bared his deepest darkest secrets to her so quickly, he couldn’t stand that she would keep this from him.

He stood up abruptly. He wished he had something to throw to express his disgust, but she already sensed his anger. Her face was softening, like she felt guilty, and maybe a little scared. “Daniel,” she started. He walked away not willing to hear the rationalization of his best friend confiding in the new girl instead of him. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

He headed upstairs and she followed. “Get away from me Jordan,” he said finally remembering to use her preferred name.

“Daniel, it’s private. He never would have told me if I wasn’t a bloodhound. Hell if he hadn’t told you by now...” He entered his bedroom and started to shut the door on her. “Wait!”

He waited, but he wasn’t sure why. He was in no mood for sex even if there was the remotest of possibilities for it. “We should use this. You were angry at me for making you heal Cori, and you did such a good job. We should see if…”

“Are you fecking crazy?” He gripped his hair in his fist, not entirely metaphorically pulling his hair out. He threw a finger in her face. “You need to stay the hell away from me! I am sick of this!” His front teeth were clenched so tight, he thought they might break. He lowered his voice even further keeping control on his volume, even though his hand was shaking uncontrollably. “From now on if you come knocking on my door it better be to use me for sex, cause I’m not putting out anything else for you, anymore.”

He slammed the door feeling no satisfaction from it. He hated that things had gotten so complicated. She was to blame for all of this. He should never have agreed to let her stay. He should never have slept with her.