“Jesus Alan Gil, we have a warrant for your arrest. Come quietly and we won’t have to use force,” was the next shout from my entryway. Everyone turned to look at me; I looked at Dale. I nodded and gestured toward the door.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. “I don’t have some magic power to get rid of the police.”

“You were all proud of yourself when you were on the news,” I said. “Where did that dashing, confident Dale go?”

“I’ll tell you where he didn’t go,” he replied. “Jail.”

“You’re the worst Alfred ever,” I said. He scoffed.

Smoothing out her battle attire and putting her lawyer face on, Al started toward the entrance of my apartment. The click of the handle followed by the sound of the door opening marked the commencement of pleasantries.

“Aloysia Warmacher, I should have known you’d be here to get in the way.” I recognized the voice of Detective I-got-a-warrant-and-you-goin’-to-jail; it was the stupidest name I’d ever heard of, but I’m sure his mom had good intentions.

“Ahh, Detective Glau, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Al offered in mock greeting. He sneered.

“Out of the way, Warmacher. I don’t have time for your games. I’m taking the brat in,” the detective said.

“Now, now. That isn’t very nice,” she replied in jest. “As Mr. Gil’s attorney, I’m here to fulfill my duty to protect my client.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said impatiently. “I have a warrant for his arrest.”

“I’d like to see this warrant. We’ll see whether or not you have the right to detain my client.”

“Here.”

I couldn’t see the interaction from the kitchen, but I knew she took whatever paper he offered. For all her faults, she was an accomplished attorney and would pounce on any discrepancy. I considered jumping out a window, but I wasn’t that confident in my ability to survive the fall. A couple minutes passed.

“Happy? Now, move.” Glau’s insistence kept increasing and a moment later, I heard footsteps approaching.

A man a few years into middle age walked into my apartment with a stern expression. His height was about the same as Al’s, but his width was double. He’d put on a few pounds since our last encounter, an athletic build, but it had deflated to more of a dad bod. Wide shoulders, but they weren’t enough to fill out the pale blue dress shirt and navy tie he wore. His cleft chin and square jawline were suffused by a layer of stubble. There was an old scar on his upper lip and his nose was slightly bulbous. He had black hair, but it had mostly been replaced by a peppery gray, surprising for his age. His cold brown eyes inspected the room.

It didn’t appear that he was all that surprised by the amount of damage in the apartment because he shook his head as if he’d expected it. As soon as he noticed me, he walked in my direction. Al followed close behind him, and two uniformed police officers trailed after her. One of the detective’s cronies was staring unabashedly at the sway of Al’s hips, while the other nervously wiped sweat off his hands, as if working up the courage to bungee jump. Al had that effect on people.

The detective locked eyes with me, “Jesus Alan Gil, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?” Oh yeah, that’s how it went; I had been so close when I was acting for the benefit of Jeff’s subconscious.

“Yep,” I said.

“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” he added.

“Not really,” I replied.

Not reading the situation at all, Shawn spoke, “I still can’t believe your name is Jesus?” He was still standing next to Cara.

“Why? It was my grandpa’s name.”

He stared at me in disbelief then gave me a mocking smirk.

“What? Shawn Xavier Ellison isn’t exactly the coolest name. It sounds like a pompous, egotistical, spoiled, private school alumni. Oh, wait...”

Completely ignoring my sick burn, he continued his train of thought, “C’mon. You heal people and your name is Jesus.”

“I still don’t get it,” I lied.

“You know like… the Jesus.”

I feigned ignorance by shaking my head and shrugging. To which, Shawn looked to Dale then Leah. Both of whom caught on and displayed the same lack of recognition.

“How can you not—” He threw his hands up in disbelief. “What is wrong with you people?” Beneath his notice, I gave Dale and Leah a nod and conspiratorial smirk. They returned humored grins. Detective I-Refuse-To-Call-Him-By-His-Legal-Totally-Fake-Name rolled his eyes as he forcefully turned me around and slapped handcuffs on.

“Watch your hands. I don’t swing that way,” I said.

“Jay, could you keep your mouth shut for once?” Al said. “I’ll schedule your bail hearing for as soon as possible.”

The detective chuckled.

“Heh. That might take a while.” Satisfaction thick in the lawman’s tone. “The courts have been a little backed up lately. I doubt he’ll be out before next week.”

As usual, Al let her emotions get the better of her. She snatched him by the elbow as he tried to walk past. Their eyes locked, inches away from each other, and I could almost see sparks flying between them. He was the only other man, that I’d ever seen, immune to her beauty.

“What happened to you, Max?” she rebuked. “You used to be a good cop.”

“I’m still a good cop; it’s you that’s lost your way,” the detective hissed. “You should have never volunteered to become his guardian.”

At his scorn, I dropped my head. Every time he came, I was reminded of that day. He didn’t feel the same pain I did; his was different. I lost my family, but he lost someone too, his partner—and it was all my fault.

“Let it go, Al,” I said solemnly. Wilting beneath the weight of the past, I was stuck in a grave, and Al had done enough for me. I didn’t want her digging a hole next to mine for herself. “Just get me out when you can.”

She let go of Glau’s arm by throwing it away in disgust, gently for her overbearing power, and he escorted me to the door.

As we passed the officers, the one with sweaty palms said, “Hey, would you—”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Not in a million years,” Al said without turning.

He gulped audibly. Her harsh treatment of the man wasn’t the only indication of her building anger; a bead of sweat rolled down my temple.

“Wait,” Cara pleaded. “What about me?”

“Don’t worry,” Shawn assured. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Stay with Al,” I said, ignoring Shawn’s—whatever he was trying to do. “She’ll protect you. I’ll be out in no time.”

Al gritted her teeth.

“Don’t hold your breath,” the smug detective commented.

We left my apartment. Al stopped at the threshold. Waves of heat emanated off her into the hallway. The uniformed officers gave her a wide berth as they followed us. I looked back. She curled her lip and punched the wall, sending a cloud of drywall into our wake. It was a reminder that I was never going to get my security deposit back.

The pack of police, save my captor, reacted by turning to the dust explosion. Steam billowed from Al’s lips as she breathed heavily. She glared at the detective with fire in her eyes, but it barely phased him. He calmly turned his head toward her.

“And there’s the proof,” he said. “The kid’s corrupted you.”

In response, Al clenched her fists so tightly that droplets of blood fell to the floor. Her muscles twitched involuntarily as she barely contained herself. I’d seen Al angry plenty of times; in fact, that’s just about the only way I’d ever seen her, but I’d never seen her outraged because she was being protective of me.

I’d been so self-absorbed to notice that it was possible that Al actually cared about me. Maybe if I’d realized that when I was young, things could have worked out differently between us and I wouldn’t have run away. I don’t know, it doesn’t matter I guess. That ship sailed across the River Styx years ago.

“Don’t,” I said. Al’s and my eyes met. “I’ll be fine.”

Detective Max Douche scoffed and pushed me toward the elevator. When it came, we entered and descended to the ground floor in silence. Bree, still at the security desk, stared at me as we passed. Her cellphone peeked over the counter, recording my escort out the door, for who knows what reason.

As we stepped onto the sidewalk, I felt something off. It was something I’d never experienced before, not even around Al. The hairs on my neck rose as if part of some kind of danger sense. Someone was watching me like I was their prey. I shivered. What the death?

Looking around, a woman across the street drew my attention. She stood unmoving while everyone else walked around her as if she didn’t exist. Her eyes followed me intently. I stared back questioningly. She looked familiar, but it took a moment for me to place her face. A flood of recognition caused my lips to part in disbelief.

Snippets of memories flashed in my mind. A soothing voice coaxing me to sleep; a gentle, yet painful, alcohol swab on my knee when I skinned it learning to ride a bike; a warm smile welcoming me home every day after school; a firm hand when I’d been caught stealing a candy bar from the corner store; and the bittersweet response when anyone in our family swore. It was impossible. She was dead.

My escort stopped next to a police cruiser and the back door opened. A hand tried to push me into the vehicle. I resisted, unable to stop myself from staring at the woman as if looking away would cause her to disappear. More memories came flooding back. The feeling of her fingers combing through my hair when I was sick; the smell of the perfume she applied way too liberally; the comforting hug she gave me when my hamster died; the taste of her famous chili, her secret ingredient a packet of cocoa. The reminiscence pulled me closer, but a nagging tug tried to tear me away.

My eyes swelled with longing for her forgiveness. Tears streamed down my face, and I prayed that she wasn’t disappointed in me. An agonizing sob racked my body. I was reminded of her death, the overwhelming pain I felt, and the funeral I couldn’t attend because I’d been detained.

She was gone, I knew it, yet her face stared back at me. It was my fault that she, Dad, and my little brother were dead.

I quirked my head to the side, reinspecting the woman. Her hair was too short, her face bore no wrinkles, and she was thinner. The woman across the street wasn’t my mother. Then I realized, she wasn’t the part of my family that died that day; she was the part of my family that was never found.

“Selena?” I said, shaking away my tears. “Selena.” The woman turned and disappeared into the alley behind her. “SELENA!” I yelled, extricating myself from the insistent detective’s grip.

I was already running after her when I shattered my bindings with a quick burst of mage strength. Honking cars slammed on their brakes, as I weaved around them. Shouts of ‘Stop!’ and ‘You’re resisting arrest!’ were lost on deaf ears. Getting to my sister was the only thing on my mind.

By the time I made it to the alley, she was gone, but I didn’t stop. My footfalls echoed off red bricks lining the passage with fire escapes overhead. A small parking area caused the path to veer around a jutting portion of a several story office building with an aged exterior but updated windows. My sister’s return sent my senses into overdrive, not wanting to miss a single detail. I forced power into my legs to vault over a tan sedan that backed into my path. I kept the energy there in an attempt to catch up to her using enhanced speed.

The alley ended and I reached the street. I paused to look in each direction, trying to ascertain where she’d gone. In front of me, the street was filled with a chain of cars, starting to move as a light turned from red to green. To my right, was construction that caused the sidewalk to detour onto the street and on the left, stairs that descended under a sign that indicated a subway. I figured at the speed I was running, I would have seen her go in any other direction, so I surged toward the steps, increasing my pace to its limit.

I practically flew down the stairs at an angle, planning to straighten out as I ran, but my haste caused me to err. I couldn’t stop, and my momentum sent me careening into a woman with a leather attaché. At the speed I was traveling, there was no way to avoid her. I pressed her into the railing but jumped up to push off the wall and avoid crushing her with the full force of my body. I touched the wall for only a moment. My rebound sent me hurtling through the air down the entire flight of stairs. I tried to brace myself to avoid faceplanting on the painted concrete landing. My failure was marked by a sharp pain which radiated up my wrist. It crumpled from the force, and I still ended up landing on my face, but the impact was diminished significantly.

My consciousness waned, but I managed to keep my wits. My wrist was broken and pulsed with pain, but my face was fine—probably. It was a problem for future me to deal with. Pushing off with my good arm, I bounced to my feet and kept moving.

Subway doors were already closing on one side of the platform. I prayed for a cliché—chasing after a train that I’d just missed. I’d see her face in a window, and she’d look back with an expression of pain and sadness. She’d put her hand on the window as if to say goodbye. I’d chase after the train, but it would be futile. I’d never make it. She was gone and my heart would be crushed. It would be the perfect movie moment, but that wasn’t going to happen, that wouldn’t be goodbye—because magic.

I knew that with enough speed, I could jump onto the back of the subway then punch through a window to climb inside.

I searched frantically. A bustle behind me didn’t stop me from chasing the subway to the very end of the terminal. I looked into every compartment as I ran but didn’t catch any glimpse of her. My hands hit the block wall with defeat and frustration. My momentum suddenly halted, I welcomed the spike of pain from my wrist. Anything to alleviate the agony of missing her, she’d been so close.

Selena couldn’t have been that far ahead of me; the subway was the only path she could have taken. There was no way she could have moved faster than me to go in any other direction.

Something slammed into me, pressing me into the wall. I turned my head to catch a glimpse of the detective’s fist before it slammed into my face. I felt the cold metal of his wedding ring leave an impression. Stars taunted me and my legs betrayed me. My knees struck the pavement.

Detective Glau grabbed me by the shoulder of my, now dirty, dress shirt and slammed me to the ground. I didn’t have the energy to come up with a new nickname for him. The other officers joined a moment later, piling on top of me. They forcefully put my arms behind me, but I was indifferent to the pain of my broken wrist as they clasped another set of cuffs on me. I was airborne and turned upright to stand. They pushed me across the terminal and up the stairs. The woman that I collided with regarded me with disdain as she watched the police escort me.

The officers and I retraced our steps through the alley, my mind blank. I was hypnotized by the cracks in the concrete and the rusted sewer drains we passed over. The opportunity to talk to Selena, to find out what had happened to her, and ask her where she’d been all this time was within my grasp, and I failed to reach her. How could she have gotten away? I sprinted at full speed but hadn’t been able to catch up.

It didn’t make sense. Maybe my eyes had played tricks on me, and she’d just been an illusion. I’d searched for her, but only met dead ends. She was the only person—the only thing I had left of my family; everything else was lost among the scorched wreckage of our childhood home. I could barely remember what life was like before the incident. Those memories were fading and what I could recall felt like they were so far away. They didn’t even feel like my memories anymore.

I was torn from my reverie by a car door opening in front of me, but this time my forehead smashed into the metal roof of the cruiser. I heard, an “Oops,” and a chuckle as my cheek landed on the hard plastic seat. Before the door of my consciousness slammed shut in concert with the police car’s, my thoughts returned to the memories of my childhood; of the family I’d loved and who loved me—until I killed them.