Page 95
Story: Code Name: Magnet
“I’m ready,” said Schön, coming out of the bedroom, wearing a pullover and jeans. Her hair was tied up, off her neck, and she wore no makeup. “I hope you like me this way, because I’ve decided this is my new look.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist. “I love the way you look regardless of whether your hair is up or down, whether you’re wearing makeup or not. I predict the way I’ll like you best I haven’t seen yet.”
She shuddered, but not in a bad way, and I kissed her.
“The sooner we can get this over with, the sooner we can be alone,” I said, kissing the tip of her nose before going in to shower like she had. “Oleander sent over an outline for the interrogation,” I said over my shoulder.
“I got it and am making notes now.”
“Prisca?” I waited until she looked up from her mobile. “I love you.”
Her smile was broad. “I love you too.”
29
SCHÖN
Even if I’d been in the interrogation room with Cassandra, I wouldn’t have been intimidated. Sitting in a metal chair, dressed in prisoner garb, she looked old, almost frail, but mostly, pathetic. Perhaps someone might feel sorry for her if they weren’t aware of the atrocities I was sure she’d committed throughout her life.
Before the guards brought Cassandra into the room, we’d tested the comms system, so now, Magnet and I stood by the window and listened.
“Cassandra Vella-Rávdos, have you been informed of your rights?” Poseidon asked. Rather than look at him, she stared at the mirrored glass I stood behind, almost as if she could see me.
“I’m okay,” I told Magnet when he squeezed my hand.
They began the interrogation as planned, asking about Salvatore and their life together. She confirmed the two raised three children together—Pharaoh, Mithras, and Eris.
“Who is Eris?” Poseidon demanded.
“The twin,” she responded.
“The one who was presumed dead at birth?”
“Cronos wanted them both, but I refused. I was already responsible for one of his bastards; I didn’t want any more of them living with us. I compromised.”
“You said you called her Eris. What was her given name?”
“I would not remember if it wasn’t so ridiculous. Judee spelled with two Es rather than a Y.”
“You said you raised Mithras.”
Cassandra snarled. “I hated him.”
“Then, why did he live with you?”
“He was Cronos’ firstborn son. If I’d made him choose, it would not have been me. The bastard ruined everything,” she spat.
“Between you and Cronos?” Poseidon continued to probe while Oleander rested her bottom on the table right next to Cassandra and stared down at her. Her head was angled in such a way that I could see her expression, and it was terrifying.
“Not between me and Cronos. Nothing could destroy what we had.” Cassandra’s eyes remained riveted on the mirror I stood behind. “Nothing,” she repeated.
“But you said Mithras ruined things.”
“After my beloved Cronos died.”
“She told me he was mad by the time he passed,” I said through the comms, and Oleander nodded.
“Beloved or demented,” she said, handing Cassandra’s sneer right back to her. “You know, syphilis can affect the brain. I read somewhere death can occur anywhere between ten and thirty years after diagnosis. Cassandra, have you been tested? If not, I’ll make sure the prison boss knows you need to be. I’m sure he’d rather not have a sociopathic, demented octogenarian on his hands.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist. “I love the way you look regardless of whether your hair is up or down, whether you’re wearing makeup or not. I predict the way I’ll like you best I haven’t seen yet.”
She shuddered, but not in a bad way, and I kissed her.
“The sooner we can get this over with, the sooner we can be alone,” I said, kissing the tip of her nose before going in to shower like she had. “Oleander sent over an outline for the interrogation,” I said over my shoulder.
“I got it and am making notes now.”
“Prisca?” I waited until she looked up from her mobile. “I love you.”
Her smile was broad. “I love you too.”
29
SCHÖN
Even if I’d been in the interrogation room with Cassandra, I wouldn’t have been intimidated. Sitting in a metal chair, dressed in prisoner garb, she looked old, almost frail, but mostly, pathetic. Perhaps someone might feel sorry for her if they weren’t aware of the atrocities I was sure she’d committed throughout her life.
Before the guards brought Cassandra into the room, we’d tested the comms system, so now, Magnet and I stood by the window and listened.
“Cassandra Vella-Rávdos, have you been informed of your rights?” Poseidon asked. Rather than look at him, she stared at the mirrored glass I stood behind, almost as if she could see me.
“I’m okay,” I told Magnet when he squeezed my hand.
They began the interrogation as planned, asking about Salvatore and their life together. She confirmed the two raised three children together—Pharaoh, Mithras, and Eris.
“Who is Eris?” Poseidon demanded.
“The twin,” she responded.
“The one who was presumed dead at birth?”
“Cronos wanted them both, but I refused. I was already responsible for one of his bastards; I didn’t want any more of them living with us. I compromised.”
“You said you called her Eris. What was her given name?”
“I would not remember if it wasn’t so ridiculous. Judee spelled with two Es rather than a Y.”
“You said you raised Mithras.”
Cassandra snarled. “I hated him.”
“Then, why did he live with you?”
“He was Cronos’ firstborn son. If I’d made him choose, it would not have been me. The bastard ruined everything,” she spat.
“Between you and Cronos?” Poseidon continued to probe while Oleander rested her bottom on the table right next to Cassandra and stared down at her. Her head was angled in such a way that I could see her expression, and it was terrifying.
“Not between me and Cronos. Nothing could destroy what we had.” Cassandra’s eyes remained riveted on the mirror I stood behind. “Nothing,” she repeated.
“But you said Mithras ruined things.”
“After my beloved Cronos died.”
“She told me he was mad by the time he passed,” I said through the comms, and Oleander nodded.
“Beloved or demented,” she said, handing Cassandra’s sneer right back to her. “You know, syphilis can affect the brain. I read somewhere death can occur anywhere between ten and thirty years after diagnosis. Cassandra, have you been tested? If not, I’ll make sure the prison boss knows you need to be. I’m sure he’d rather not have a sociopathic, demented octogenarian on his hands.”
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