Page 29 of The Wickedness of Man

I paused before answering. “Because I believed a civilian may have been involved. The agent stationed at the target’s home can verify this information.”

“You were not present when backup arrived and missed rendezvouses with your handlers, yet we have your location as being nearby the area of operations,” said the operator.

Again, statements, not questions. I had to be careful. In times like this, I had developed a technique based on the silly introduction gametwo truths and a lie. Keep the information vague and twist as few facts as possible to make it harder to spot.

“I woke up about an hour ago”—truth—“and I wasn’t sure where I was, or what really even happened”—truth… somewhat—“so I went in search of a contact point. This was the first place I found. ”

And now for the lie.

“I think… I think the demon I was watching may have been a succubus,” I said, “but I’m not… I’m not sure what happened once I went inside her office.”

It wasn’t atotallie, but I certainly couldn’t tell them I’d only bothered to find the check-in point after absconding with a newly turned demon.

There was a long pause and more typing. “Are you compromised?”

“Compromised?”

“Have you committed any acts, illegal or sacrilegious, while under the demon’s influence?”

This was where I had to really lie my ass off. I’d tell Jax, but only if it were absolutely necessary. Otherwise, for the rest of my days, I’d do my level best to forget about Magda Church. Who the fuck was I kidding? I wouldneverforget about her. In order to protect her however, I’d have to toe the line of sacrilege.

“I, uh… what? No. At least… I don’t think so. I can’t really remember what happened. It was all a bit of a… blur.”

“Just a moment.”

Not convincing enough, I warned myself in the ensuing silence. It was quiet for so long, I thought the call disconnected, but then came the sound of typing once more.

“Operatives are en route to collect you. Do not attempt to leave the area.”

The line went dead, and then there was a flat dial tone. I hung up and stepped out of the urine-soaked phone booth and staggered over to the ATM. I didn’t care if they could see me. I checked my coat and found my wallet still in the inner pocket. Ipulled out my debit card—the one they’d given me for the job, of course. Agents weren’t allowed to bring any identifying personal information with us on assignments, so all I had was a fake ID, fake debit account, and the cash I’d discovered in my hand the other night. I inserted the card and held my breath.

Code entered, I checked my balance: $0.00.

They’d cleared the account, which meant they’d already begun sweeping up their mess.Or rather,I thought, as the screen flickered with an error message letting me know my card was invalid and the stupid plastic rectangle shot back out,they’re about to finish doing so.

I left the card in the machine, barely resisted the urge to flick off the ATM camera, and walked back over to the streetlamp before taking a seat on the cement curb. By the time I’d sat back down, one of the black cargo vans that had been circling the area all night screeched to a stop directly in front of me. The door slid open and two agents wearing all black kit and balaclavas stepped out.

“Up, asshole,” said the second man out of the van, gesturing with the shiny silver gun in his hand as they both approached me and yanked on my arms.

“What, not even the offer of candy?” I groused as I was pulled upright. “That’s just lazy kidnapping.”

“Hope that sense of humor comes out unscathed on the other side of the cells,” said the first agent. I recognized his voice as that of the man I’d spoken to on the phone earlier: Home.

“You’re gonna be rotting in them for a while until the big wigs figure out what the hell to do with your dumb ass,” said the agent with the gun.

They dragged me toward the open door, but I dug in my heels.

“Wait a second—that’s not protocol. You can’t take me straight to the cells,” I shot back. “Jax will want me in the debriefing room.”

“That was before you fucked up, Knight,” said the gunman. I could hear the smile in his tone as he spoke, and it sent an icy spike of fear into my gut. “Word from the org is that you were compromised, which means we’re going to have to quarantine you. But… since you’re not injured, there’ll be no med bay—just the cells.”

I mentally reassessed the situation. If they were going to take me straight to that hell, I’d be stuck in there for good. I’d planned to lie my ass off wherever possible and act penitent while accepting my punishment, but if they were going to subject me to the cells without so much as giving me the chance, well… Better to be shot in the back of the head than to be waterboarded and tortured until I couldn’t remember my own name.

Again.

I’d only stayed in the cells one time longer than two weeks, but the experience lingered with me even now like my own personal ghost. I’d had decidedly shorter stays following that, but the more often you went in, the more unbearable the idea of ever going back in became. For grunt-level agents, such as myself, the cells were meant to be a first line of defense against disobedience. While I wasn’t the only agent who’d enjoyed a stay within its concrete walls on more than one occasion, I wasfairlycertain I was the current recidivism record holder due to my repeated incarcerations.

I’d learned, early on, that the punishment was typically somewhat tailored to the crime, so discovering what it was they wanted you to repent for was typically the key to getting out. At nineteen, I’d lied about sneaking off campus to go drinking—and to meet a girl, but they didn’t know aboutthatpart of my evening. I’d been forced to drink communion wine until Ivomited. The priests asked me if I’d ever touch another drop of alcohol, and I promised I wouldn’t, but then they brought in more the next day and ordered me to drink it. After I’d thrown up again, they asked me if I’d touch another drop. I swore up and down that I wouldn’t, but they left me in there and repeated the whole thing the next day. I was crying as I begged them to justtell mewhat they’d wanted, but they said nothing.

---