Page 7 of Wings of Ebony
Patrol—from Ghizon.
Here.
In my world.
On my block.
“You’ll need to come with me. Now.” It’s not a request. My fingers twitch for my watch. Maybe I can flick it on fast enough to zap back “home.” Veins pulse at the corners of his eyes. I don’t know his face, but he’s Ghizoni. They’re all the same, with their pallid skin. I can’t see it, but he has a secret fused to his wrists—circles of onyx embedded in his flesh.
“I…”
“Sir, do you have clearance to be here?” The city cop pops a notebook closed.
A plastic smile splits the Ghizoni’s face as he greets the cop. “No problem, officer. Special unit investigating what happened here. Just a few questions for the young lady.”
“You got a badge?”
“Of course.” He turns toward me like he’s reaching into his back pocket. If looks could kill, start typing my eulogy now. “Shut up,” he mouths, waving one hand in front of the other. There, in the palm of his hand, where there was just air, a black leather rectangle adorned with a gold crest glints in the sun. I bite my tongue to keep from gasping.
The cop nods. “Very good. We’ll need a few words with her when you’re done.” He ventures off, and I don’t know if I feel relieved or more panicked.
Patrol turns to me. “Where were we?”
Definitely more panicked.
“You’re in violation of using magic outside Ghizoni borders.” He slips a silver restraint from his pocket and leans in for a whisper. “Not to mention illegal use of a transport spell to the human world in the first place.”
I hide my wristwatch arm behind me. Bri won’t take the fall for this too.
“Come along without making a scene or this will get far worse. For you. For everyone.”
There’s no way out of this. No way good.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Darkness creeps at the edges of my vision and I sway. But blinking quickly seems to help. I think. I hope.
Patrolman tilts his head.He noticed.
He pulls down his shades. “Who did you touch?” He spits words like they’re laced with poison.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I ain’t do nothing.” Do I have rights in Ghizon like here? Not that that shit matters half the time.
He glances both ways. “Isaid—”
If Patrol in Ghizon are anything like the Laws here, talking won’t do shit.
He reaches for me.
And I run.
My feet fly across the pavement, my block a blur of color. I dart across the street, hiking over a garbage can, knocking it down behind me. My heart pounds faster than my feet. Footsteps echo at my back.
An alleyway between the laundromat and Klassy Kuts barbershop opens up ahead and I pound the ground harder. I saved my sister’s life and somehow that’s a crime. My lungs burn and my thighs cry in pain as I run. Because that’s just what you do when Laws are after you. Guilty or not, you just run.
My wrist vibrates and I can’t manage a look. Maybe I can lose them, get back to Ghizon, act like I’ve been there the whole time. They don’t have shit on me. They can’t prove anything.Would they even have to?
The sound of my heaving breaths echo off the towering apartments around me. I chance a glance over my shoulder and all is clear. So I stop to catch my breath and check my watch.
Bri: Dorms are closed. Meet at my house?
