P. Stormcrow

A clock somewhere ticked the seconds away as no one spoke. It was hard to watch the trepidation creeping into Talia’s face and at last, Finn opened her mouth only to snap it shut when Mr. Henkin clenched his fists and cleared his throat.

“Talia, my child. The runes…” He swallowed and tried again. “They are not quite correct. They have turned the helpers…” he trailed off, groping for the right word.

“Malevolent,” Jackson finished for him though he kept his voice soft. “This one attacked me and my partner with full intent to kill, in a warded room.”

Fear. Horror. Shame. Talia stared at all of them, and her cheeks flushed pink, freckles growing more prominent. “Are… are any of you hurt?” she whispered when she processed the meaning of his words at last. “Did anyone get hurt?”

No one said this job was going to be easy, but never had Finn imagined herself in this position. But she recalled the crime scenes, the boards back in the office with all the photos of victims through all this time. So many dead. Someone had to say it. She hardened her heart.

“We believe several of your customers have been killed over the years.”

Talia’s face crumpled, blood draining out of it, and her body lost all ability to hold itself up as her eyes widened in shock. Mr. Henkin caught her in time and eased her into another chair even as Jackson shot Finn a look, somewhere between scathing and understanding. It was hard to discern which end of the scale his expression belonged to more.

Guilt plucked at Finn, but she clenched her fists. Someone had to say it. She pretended she didn’t care what Jackson thought, but knew that was a lie.

“Saba?” Talia asked in a small voice. “I didn’t—” Her eyes reddened as the first tears spilled. “I didn’t mean—I tried—” She turned to stare at the broken pieces on the table as her shoulders trembled. “What have I done?” With that, she covered her face with her hands.

“We will deal with this, Talia. We will deal with this. You are not alone. You are not to blame.” Mr. Henrik pulled himself up to his full height though the gesture was more symbolic, as he remained bowed by age. His own visage grew so pale, Finn worried he would faint, but his words still held a firm surety. “I will assume all responsibility. These came out of my shop.”

Newman rubbed the back of his neck as he looked from the girl to the old man. “Let’s get you in to ID the rest of the call—toys first.”

Both grandfather and granddaughter nodded. Hand in hand, they followed Newman out of the house with Jackson and Finn trailing after them. But as soon as they stepped outside, Jackson asked Newman to transport the two to the warehouse, much to her surprise. And when he agreed, a queasiness filled Finn. 

“Can you drive?”

“Yeah.” Though still suspicious, Finn bobbed her head once and snatched the keys from the air without protest as he tossed them to her. She had half expected Jackson to lay into her but when they both got into the vehicle, he picked up the radio receiver. While she drove, she listened to him brief whoever was on the other end of the situation and the kinds of preparation he needed. An interview room. Someone to let the doctor know what was going on. Olivia to prepare evidence for identification. Proper containment field. He spoke all in code with some she had trouble translating as she had yet to encounter or memorize. After a while, she lost track of the one-sided conversation and tried to refocus her attention on getting them safe and sound.

Still, her mind kept wandering.

Before this visit, Finn would have thought of the dolls and various toys as evidence, but what were they now? Murder weapons? Or murderers themselves? They were sentient beings but with limited intelligence, turned from helpful assistants to killing machines thanks to a genuine mistake. Would they consider this malpractice?

All the ethical questions threatened to overwhelm her, and she spared a hand to rub her temple, as she could feel the headache returning. What a mess.

Beside her, Jackson slumped back in the passenger seat. Guess he’s finished his calls.

She gave him a sideway glance. He had his arms across his face, over his eyes.

“Hey. You okay?” she asked at last.

He dropped his arm but kept his gaze ahead as he let out a long sigh. “Are you?”

About to scoff and reply that she was, Finn stopped herself. “No. No, not really.”

A pregnant pause. It took a while before Jackson spoke again, this time a little slower, as if he was picking his words with care. “Back there. That was—”

Anger surged within her, but it also felt reassuring. Better than this melancholy threatening to take permanent residence. “Harsh?” she cut him off. “How would you put it?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “She was going to find out, eventually. Best to rip the Band-Aid off. Besides, we had to be certain that none of it was intentional. We needed to know they wouldn’t run or fight us. That they would cooperate.” Now even she knew she was running her mouth off with how much of an asshole she sounded. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and a sharp pain shot from the wound on her palm, up her arm. Good.

Jackson didn’t dispute her assumption. “Lots of cops, agents, think the best approach is to start with a tough stance. But it isn’t the only way. You are not weak for choosing compassion.”

Finn snorted. “Compassion gets you killed.”

He shrugged though she barely spied the movement out of the corner of her eye. “I guess you’d have to choose whether it’s worth the risk. And it won’t be one just today or tomorrow. It’ll be a choice you have to make, over and over again.”

She didn’t need the lecture, but she wasn’t so pissed that she lost sight that this was how he showed he cared. So she gentled her next retort. “You’re sounding a lot like Dr. Laurent.”

Jackson chuckled. “Who did you think I got that all from?”

She would have replied, but she pulled into the parking lot at that moment. Then there was no more time to talk at all.

***

A newbie wasn’t supposed to be that jaded already. Damien didn’t have the exact details on the circumstances that caused Reed to be transferred to The Aberrant Control Division, but he knew it had to do with pissing someone high up somewhere. Now he wondered if something else bigger had gone down.

There was no more time to ponder though as they exited the car and crossed the parking lot to the building that functioned as their home base. As soon as they stepped foot onto the floor, Olivia headed towards them.

“I’ve set the dolls up in lockdown chamber two and borrowed two of the doc’s cats.”

Right. The cats to neutralize any innate powers. It was good thinking on her part, but that was why everybody leaned on Olivia so much. She didn’t just handle their requests with efficiency but spent time covering all the angles too. “Thanks.” 

Sudden realization hit him and he skidded to a halt. “Wait, where is everyone?” He had been so occupied that he had forgotten that there were no strangers at Henkin’s house, either.

Damien couldn’t see her expression with her back towards him, but he saw the way Olivia’s entire body tensed, as if he caught her doing something she shouldn’t. Her pace quickened. “The doctor is away at the moment, but he said he should be back in time for an eval. If—”

He exchanged a look with Reed who shrugged and called out again. “Olivia!”

She ducked her head and half turned.

“Olivia, where’s everyone?”

The young tech studied her shoes with great interest and mumbled something under her breath. Damien strained to listen, but couldn’t make out what she said.

He let the silence stretch on until she sighed.

“Ms. Callaghan told me to tell you to focus on wrapping up the case, then she’ll fill you in.”

Why the hell were they blocking him? What could—

Oh.

“Is it?” he whispered, not daring to raise his hope. But his pulse sped up and his mouth dried as the image of golden hair streaming as she fell floated to the forefront of her mind. Tell Dad…

“Don’t know. Got to run!” Olivia answered as fast as she could and took off.

“Jackson?” 

Finn’s hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his spiraling thoughts. He jerked his head towards her, eyes still wide then cleared his throat. Finish the case. See it to the end. That was the job.

Fuck the job.

Of course, at that moment, the warehouse door opened and Newman escorted Talia and her grandfather in. No, he had a responsibility, and he would not abandon it now. She would never forgive him. He straightened and squared his shoulders.

“I’m fine. Let’s finish this.”