Page 125 of The Succubi's Choice

Miri has known Katya long enough to know when her friend doesn’t know something but is trying to not show it. Her jaw relaxes, as if she’s conscious about her tells, but they’re tells all the same.

“They were going to arrest me, I’m just making sure they can’t do that,” she says.

Katya leans forward, just enough that Miri knows she’s doing it intentionally, but carefully, and Miri leans forward in return, mirroring the movement. “Will the Organization recover?” She whispers, and Miri gets it.

There’s a camera, the recording light still blinking, in the corner, and Katya is acting like Miri charmed her.

Slow, Miri reaches her hand out further, catching Katya’s bad hand, and Katya nods imperceptibly.

“Yes, it’ll still help people, it just won’t...won’t be able to do stuff like that.”

Katya flexes her hand in hers, a brief squeeze of support. “Loudly tell me to lead you to her, I have an idea where she can be.”

They haven’t pulled this sort of trickery before, but Katya is smart, smarter than most give her credit for, and if she can claim to be charmed, then she won’t lose her job. She won’t lose any position, and might even be able to argue something in terms of protection. It’s brilliant, and Miri knows that she must’ve thought of it long ago.

Miri squeezes her hand right back. “Take me to her,” she says, timing it between the alarms, and the red flashing light would mask any non-usage of her charm.

Her beautiful face slack, Katya nods, keeping her hand in hers and she turns back towards the false wall. “We have a secure medical room this way, hidden, unless you know to look for it,” she says, and she even gets the dreamy, calm lilt to her voice that people get when Miri is charming them. Like she’s been practicing. “You could only know about it from the camera recordings.”

Katya disappears through the false wall, tugging Miri through it, and the light and lack of noise is like a balm.

“Why would they keep something like this?” Miri asks, as they move, hand in hand, into the mirrored hallway.

A self-aware glance, a warning that Katya is going to lie, and it’s not for Miri’s sake. That, at least, is a welcome and familiar shorthand, one they’ve had in dozens of business scenarios. “In case someone like you was a prisoner as well as hurt,” she says, still dreamy and calm, and she deserves a goddamn Oscar for the performance she’s pulling. “It’s for safety.”

So Miri will get an actual answer. Later.

Katya hesitates, and she can see the calculations in her brilliant blue eyes. “They probably have her down by the end,” she says, her hand twitching in Miri’s. “The cameras still work on this part, it’s cut out from the main generator.”

The question is inherent in her words, but Miri knows there’s still some time before the timer rings. “Would they have hurt her?”

Again, the glance, and Katya opens her mouth before closing it again, like she’s seen many people do who intend to lie.

Katya tugs her down the hall, past a curve, and Miri catches, finally, that small sound, the sound of life and of home, and she squeezes her eyes shut at the noise.

“Take me to her, and I’ll leave and get out of here,” Miri says, loud enough for any cameras, and Katya looks down, as if to disguise her not being charmed.

Katya’s hands flex in hers, once, twice, then pulls her sharply to the left, in a way that must be painful to her shoulder. “You sure about this?” She hisses between her teeth, too quiet to be picked up by anything. “You absolutely sure?”

Miri nods, and Katya digs out the ever-present recording device from her pocket, clicks it twice, then shoves it in Miri’s front pocket.

“Don’t remove this, whatever you do,” she whispers, eyes wide, as if widening them will impart more meaning. “Trust me?”

Of course Miri trusts her. How could she not, after everything, after Katya taking her here, after all the trust and care and worry.

“It won’t leave my pocket,” Miri promises, and Katya pulls her back out to the hallway, turns the corner and —

In another room, visible only through the small glass window, is Vincente. He locks eyes with Katya, obviously searching for the color in her eyes.

“Leave,” Miri says, and her charm sparks, obvious. Katya stiffens, before dropping her hand and striding away...

Before stopping, right outside of the view out the window, because Miri’s never been one who can maintain her charm for longer than physical contact.

Behind Vincente, Miri sees a flash of black hair on the medical bed, a curled-up form, and the stark white of bandages against her head. She doesn’t stir.

Miri takes a second to comprehend just how much her life is going to change if she unlocks the door, that she could run, could go in the opposite direction. Not face the man who tortured her, leave without Jacqueline, wait until the Archdemon can come and rescue her and literally never have to face her problems again and...

She rests the palm of her injured hand on the door knob, and the thrill of runes runs up her, reaching down to the protective sharpie mark on her sides, which flares up, bright and hot, for a brief second. Until the thrill recedes, and she turns the handle with ease.

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