Page 29 of Oh No! There’s an Incubus in my Hot Spring (Getting Cozy with Demons #1)

twenty-nine

The Slammer

S ix hours in an interrogation room is not something I ever wanted to repeat, no matter how long between stays, but here I am. They let me call my lawyer, Agatha, two hours in after I refused to say anything other than “I get to call my lawyer now.”

She’ll be here in an hour or so, and knowing my mother—who I told Agatha to keep informed—she’ll be here soon, too.

I have to pee.

My head hurts.

Fuck my life.

The officers tell me that everyone else is talking and I should, too. Yeah, I know that song and dance. I wasn’t the best-behaved teen after my dad passed, and landed myself in this spot more times than I’d like to count. Good thing my juvenile record was closed…

Leonard might actually be talking. I wouldn’t blame him. Poor kid has school today, and he literally didn’t do shit. Neither did Irene. But what would he even tell them? Witchcraft and demons are real? That would probably get him a one-way ticket to psych evaluation. Or they’d think he was being a little shit.

No matter. Their treatment of us reeks of Turdleneck interference… I doubt they’re even trying to get anything out of us. Maybe Mark wants to see me beg. Maybe he’s right in the other room, ready to accept my resignation of failure.

I rest my head back on the chair and close my eyes.

There’s a loud bang, someone hitting their fist on the table next to me. I jump a little, the need to pee intensifying, but I don’t look up.

“You want to go hang out in a cell?” one of them asks.

I won’t answer. Crazy-girl wants to say, “At least I’ll be in better company there,” but we say it in our head instead and laugh together. I wish Charlie was nearby.

One of them leans so close I can smell their crusty deodorant. “Did you hear me?”

Don’t answer. Don’t nod. Don’t do fucking anything.

The officer sighs and his chair scrapes on the tile. “I’m calling it on this one. You have fun.”

The door opens and closes. I can hear the other person in the room breathing. It’s not particularly loud breathing, but the air’s not on in the room, so it’s dead quiet otherwise. My heartbeat comes into focus now. If my head wasn’t throbbing like a nightclub, I might be able to fall asleep like this.

The silence stretches on and I fight the itching need to fill it with something other than our breathing. I start counting the minutes in my head, willing away my need to urinate.

Ten minutes of silence.

This dude is creepy as fuck.

Fifteen.

What in the hell is going through their head?

Twenty.

I really need to pee.

“Are you a witch?”

“Jesus—” I gasp, despite myself.

“I was starting to think you’d gone mute,” the woman says.

I open my eyes and raise my head to look at her. It’s so bright in here it hurts. I wince as I take her in. Late twenties, tanned, well-muscled, brown hair pulled back in a tight bun, and wearing the blues of an officer. Her name tag reads D. Rosa.

“The DJ was live streaming on ViewTube. He turned that footage over to us,” she says, and I do my best not to let my face talk for me. “Your arms go out and the guy two rooms over flies backwards. Can’t see if he actually got the hit off since it was so dark, but based on your ex’s wound, I’d say not.”

I clench my jaw shut.

“That gust of wind seemed to come out of nowhere…”

I hold her gaze.

“Maybe it came from outside. Maybe one of those mountain breezes swooped in, hit the back of the room, and slammed into him.”

The door was propped open for the breeze to keep it cool.

Officer Rosa nods. “That sounds kinda plausible.”

What’s her angle here?

“I always knew there was something special about those waters up in the mountain. I took a dip a time or two when I was younger, and it always left me feeling surprisingly good,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “You know, that used to be the location of Silver Mountain Resort, built right up in it. Mark’s great-grandmother had it moved closer to town to get more tourists. Seems to have worked.

“I’ve been to the new Silver Mountain Resort and those waters are nice, but nothing like what you’ve got up there. That water is magical, isn’t it?” She gives a disarming smile.

Don’t move. Don’t flinch. Don’t blink. She’s a T-Rex and she will spot me.

Officer Rosa grins wider and gets to her feet. “My god, you’re made of steel. You’ve been in that chair before, haven’t you?”

I give her a slight shrug and she laughs. “Your lawyer arrived about thirty minutes ago. Thought I’d give it one more go, for Mark, since, you know, he paid us to give you hell.”

I grimace, bouncing my leg to keep in all the putrid, vile things I could say about Turdleneck.

“Need to use the restroom?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“Ha! I win,” she says, pointing up at the camera. She reaches for my handcuffs and unhooks me from the chair restraint. “Come on, I’ll take you real quick.”

I let her lead me to the bathroom and then get to struggle with the wiping part with my hands still bound. The relief is immense and I feel like my body is ten pounds lighter.

Officer Rosa leads me to a different room and removes my handcuffs. She opens the door and Agatha, a fifties-something woman who’s been my attorney since childhood, gets up from her seat. She’s dressed in a blue pantsuit with dark bags under her eyes.

The officer nods me in and I move toward the table.

“Heya, Syl,” Agatha says with a dry smile. “What have we gotten ourselves into this time?”

I sigh deeply and look around the room. Cameras in the corner of course. Agatha’s got a legal pad and a pen in front of her so I gesture to it. She slides it across the table to me and I jot down the basics.

Jason’s been literally stalking me and trying to ruin my life. I’m a witch and used magic in a public setting. And, oh, yeah, my boyfriend is not human and tried to kill my ex, but I stopped him.

Agatha’s eyebrows get higher and higher on her forehead as she reads.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“This is not a prank. How do we fix it?”

She shakes her head slowly. “I am in uncharted waters here. The good news is that the camera behind the bar caught the fight, and it clearly shows that your boyfriend didn’t strike Jason—though he was doing his damnedest.”

Fucking D. Rosa…

“Is attempted assault a charge?” I ask.

“I was looking into the law on my redeye over here, and in the state of Colorado it can be, but only when accompanied by threatening words. Your guy didn’t say a thing as he approached, and though the intent was clear, no verbal threat was made. I’m sure there’ll be some kind of charge, but it won’t be assault.”

I close my eyes. “What about a past threat?”

She hums. “Yeah, that could be used. But even still, we’re probably looking at third-degree assault charges, which is just a misdemeanor.”

“Just a misdemeanor,” I scoff. Apollo doesn’t even have an identity for that to go on record.

“If things progress that way, he can get a jury or a bench trial, and I’m sure we can figure it out to just a fine based on Jason’s remarks. He was instigating for sure.”

“And what about this,” I ask, pointing to the whole ‘I’m a witch and used my powers in front of everyone’ bit.

She shakes her head again. “I really don’t know, Syl. But you’re not being charged with anything. I’d say you should probably file a complaint against this station for misconduct. That’ll take a long time to go anywhere, but these kinds of things shouldn’t be happening.”

I rest my head on my hands. “Great. Can you get that started for me?”

“Will do.”

“What about my other two friends?” I ask.

“They were discharged hours ago,” she says as she flips her binder closed and zips it up tight.

I sigh deeply into the cradle of my arms. “And my boyfriend?”

“I’ll find out.” She leaves, her shoes clacking down the hall as she goes.

Fuck.

Fuckity.

Fuckaroo.

How do I fix this?

Everyone in town already suspects something, or possibly even knows depending on what Mark has spread around. If Apollo is discovered, what could happen to him?

If he’s discovered by unfriendly agencies without the public knowledge, he could easily be disappeared overnight and no one would care. If people knew about him, though…

Agatha opens the door and nods her head out to the hall. “He’s in the waiting room.”

I jump to my feet, anxious to get to him. Poor Apollo, he’s probably never been in a situation like this before. I follow Agatha down a hall adorned with photos of officers doing great deeds, and ‘Save the Puppies’ calendars with half-nude officers from 2011. The sun is just coloring the sky orange as we come into the front room.

Apollo is sitting near the door, ramrod straight. He stands when he sees me, his eyes full of concern. I smile to let him know I’m okay despite my stomach being a bundle of nerves. I rush the last few steps to him, and he pulls me into an embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into my hair, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need to be sorry. I’m just so glad he’s holding me.

I melt into the embrace. “We’re going to figure everything out.”

“You’re not being charged, despite Mr. Lowell throwing a massive bitch-fit,” Officer Rosa says behind me. I turn to look at her. She’s holding out our personal items that were taken when we got here. I grab my purse and jacket.

“Though, Mr. Paul Spring ,” the officer says, raising an eyebrow at Apollo. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me back into his side protectively. “You will be seeing a fine for not having your state-issued identification card on you. Make sure you get one of those and keep it on your person at all times.”

“Yes, officer. I will,” Apollo says.

Officer Rosa nods. “Good.” She turns for the door, then stops and looks back at us. “Well, do you need a ride to your car, or not?”

“You want a ride?” Agatha grips my arm and gives it a squeeze.

“You need to get some rest,” I say. “Officer Rosa can take us.”

“Okay. I’ll be staying in town for a few days, so I’ll start that paperwork and help you with that problem. Maybe I’ll come up and take a dip and we can talk about it more?”

“You should. It’s on the house, of course,” I say.

“Perfect. I’ll call you later tonight.”

“Tonight.” I groan to myself as I realize it is in fact Monday and we’ll need to open the hot spring at ten for the first scheduled appointment. Sleep will be a later thing, I guess.

Apollo keeps his hand tight on my side as we follow Officer Rosa to her squad car. We get in the back and she takes off. Her radio bleats out random information from the station and I squeeze Apollo’s hand tighter in the quiet. After a few turns I realize we’re not headed back toward Main Street.

I sit forward in the back seat. “Hey, where are you taking us?”

“I figured you’d be smarter than to get in a corrupt cop’s car after being freed.” She shrugs. “It’s really not my fault.”

Oh. Holy. Shit.

She going to fucking murder us.