Blood Lines

the holding cell.
    Locked up. They said they had a warrant.
    What the hell is happening?
    She managed to focus on Mallard's face. The son of a bitch was smiling.
    'Such a pity when a cop goes bad," he said clearly.
    Cop? God damn it, don't say I'm a cop. Not here!
    He reached down and pinched her cheek, hard enough for her to feel it through the drug, and gently resettled her glasses on her nose. "Wouldn't want you to miss any of this."
    Don't leave me here! You can't just leave me here, you bastard ! The thought slammed around inside her head but all that made it out was a kind of stuttering moan.
    'I'll always remember you like this." His smile broadened, then he turned and moved back out of her line of sight.
    She couldn't turn her head fast enough to watch him go.
    NO!
    Heels rang against the concrete floor and Vicki struggled to focus on the young woman now standing over her.
    Oh, Christ…
    'Fucking cop."
    The toes of her boots were dangerously pointed. Fortunately, she didn't know where use them to their best advantage.
    Nothing broke.

    Vicki made an effort to remember the face behind the garish makeup before pain squeezed her eyes shut.
    'Leave her alone, Marian. She's too stoned to feel it anyway."
    She could feel snot running over her upper lip. She could feel something damp soaking through her jeans where her hip pressed against the floor. She'd never felt so desperately helpless in her entire life.
    Somewhere else.
    Eyes glowed red and Akhekh fed.
    'How long do you figure the drug will last?"
    Gowan shrugged. "I dunno, a few hours. It's the same stuff the animal control people use to bring down bears. Doesn't really matter how long it lasts. After the story we spun, they're not going to believe a word she says."
    'But what if she gets a lawyer?"
    'Not where she's going."
    'But…"
    'Chill out, Mallard." Gowan pulled carefully out of the parking spot and waved at the driver of a wagon just coming in.
    "Cantree said he needed a couple of days to get the evidence to nail the bitch and we've given it to him. It's his problem now."
    'And hers."
    Staff Sergeant Gowan nodded. "And hers," he repeated in pleased agreement.
    * * *
    The whores had been taken away. Vicki didn't know when. Time moved so slowly she might have been in the holding cell for days.
    Inch by inch, she crawled one arm up the wall far enough for her hand to grab the edge of the bench. It took four tries for her grip to finally hold and another three before she could remember how to bend her elbow. Finally she was sitting, still on the floor but a definite improvement.
    The massive physical effort needed to get this far had held panic at bay but now she could see-thank God, they hadn't taken her glasses-it rolled over her in turgid red waves that crashed against the backs of her eyes, receded and crashed down again. The only coherent word in the surging tide was NO ! so she clutched at it and used it to keep from being pulled under.
    NO ! I will not surrender!
    A sharp slap on her right cheek gave her a new focus and she managed to drag herself partially free.
    'Hey? I said, can you walk?"
    Vicki blinked. A guard. The panic receded further and relief flooded in to take its place. They'd realized what had happened and come to get her. She tried to smile and nod at the same time, couldn't do both so achieved neither, and threw everything she had into a struggle to get to her feet.
    'Atta girl, upsa daisy. Christ," the guard grunted as she ended up lifting most of Vicki's weight. "Why are the stoners always so fucking big?"
    The second guard, standing at the door of the cage, shrugged. "At least this one doesn't stink. I'll take a head over a drunk any day. Drugs don't make you puke on your shoes."
    'Or my shoes," the first guard agreed. "Okay, you're up. Now then, left foot, right foot. None of us will enjoy it if we have to carry you."
    It was more of a threat than an encouragement, but Vicki didn't notice. She could walk. It was shuffling, unsure, and slow, but it was forward locomotion and while both guards seemed merely satisfied, Vicki was overjoyed. She could walk. The drug must be wearing off.
    Her relief grew when they took her straight to the Duty Sergeant and pushed her down onto a wooden chair.
    I'm on my way out of here…
    'So," he said when the door closed and they were alone, "the two officers who brought you in suggested I book you myself."
    Book me?
    He patted the warrant with his fingertips. "They've left me a number to call