I grab a big puffy jacket from the closet of Clyde's pack's safehouse and leave. It's two in the morning and the air is chilly so I wrap the jacket tightly around myself and brace against the cold. I decide I'll walk back to the street with all the clubs and grab a taxi there since there aren't any outside his building.

I'm almost there when I see the checkpoint. I groan. The guard has blocked off every entrance to club row and they're screening for users above the legal limit. I'm on the other side of the checkpoint so if I can just walk away without being noticed I can grab a cab somewhere else and get home without an issue. I start to creep backwards.

"Hey! You!"

Shit.

A young guard, no more than twenty, steps away from the barrier they've set up and jogs up to me.

"Routine check. This way."

He grabs hold of my arm and tugs.

"Oh. No," I say, trying to back away. His grip is too strong. "I'm just passing through. I'm not trying to get to the clubs."

"Doesn't matter," he throws over his shoulder, "Everyone has to do it. Just a quick prick and you'll be on your way."

He leads me to the back of a short line and deposits me there before heading back to his post. I look around desperately for a chance to sneak off but there are guards all over the street. My heart thunders. With the way I ate tonight there's no way I'm under the limit.

I spot an unattended alley and get ready to make a break for it, slipping my feet out of my heels so I can run. I'm regretting not bringing my knife. It would come in really handy right now but I didn't have room in my purse.

"Next." a bored voice calls.

I'm too late. I've reached the front of the line.

"Id?"

The man holds out his hand and I dig through my purse until I find my id and deposit it in his outstretched hand. The name reads Alexis Smith. Not my real name or my real id but I paid a lot of money for it and Martha makes the best counterfeits in the business. The Knittery might be her store but fake documents and information are her real business. He swipes it through his machine and Alexis Smith's information pulls up.

"This is your current address?" He asks.

I glance at the screen and nod. It isn't but I'm not going to tell him that. In fact, I've never even been to that address.

"You were booked once before?"

I nod again. About three months back I'd been caught in a checkpoint just like this one while leaving a bar. I'd been just at the legal limit and most guards would have let me go with a warning but the guard on duty that night had been a huge dick. Fortunately, I'd gotten Martha to make me a new id and she'd just given it to me yesterday. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to switch the old one out before I came out tonight.

"Hand."

I hold out my hand. He pricks my index finger and squeezes out a drop of blood. There's some whirring as his machine reads the results and his screen flashes red. He runs it again just to be safe. Red again.

"Sorry, miss," he sighs, clearly annoyed to have more work to do, "I'm going to have to get you to step off to the side here."

He pulls a form from a stack on the table and begins writing.

I try to argue. "I just forgot to use my singher before I left the house. I'm probably just over the limit so if you have a singher I could use it would be less of a hassle for both of us. Please?"

I can see the singher sitting on the table beside him.

"Please." I beg.

He looks at me then looks at the numbers on his screen.

"No dice," He says finally, "You're more than double the legal limit. You're going to have to spend the night in the cooler."

I swear.

The same guard who put me in line now leads me to a waiting truck. It looks like those prison transport vehicles I used to see on TV except the inside is black from all the iron they use to line it. I'm the last person on and the other seven people look exactly as upset and worried as I feel.

I shouldn't have been so stupid. I should have only taken what I'd needed, what was safe. Instead, I'd wanted to stock up and make more charms. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

It's a long ride to the guard tower and no one says a word. The whole way I can feel the magic seeping out of everyone on the truck. This would be a dream come true for me if it weren't such a nightmare. I can sustain myself for a week on the amount of power these people are giving off. One man in particular catches my eye and winks at me. He tastes like blood and shadows. A vampire.

"First time?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Second."

He grins like he likes that answer.

"Don't be nervous," he croons, "They only start draining you after the fifth."

He looks me up and down. The jacket hides most of my body but my legs are bare and his eyes linger on them. I shiver in disgust and look away.

"So what's your type?" he asks.

I don't look at him.

There's some shuffling in the truck and then he's sitting next to me.

"Come on, baby girl," he grins, "Tell me what I'm working with. What's your type?"

He puts his hand on my knee and I slap it off.

"Do you want to lose that hand?" I ask.

Someone snorts in laughter and the vampire flashes his fangs. He turns his attention back to me but keeps his hands to himself this time.

"I just want to get to know you. We've got a long ride to the Tower. How about I guess?" I ignore him and he mistakes my silence as agreement. Or maybe he just doesn't care. Either way, he starts, "You look human but you're powerful enough to land yourself here so that narrows it down. You can't be a vampire or I'd know. You're not dirty or hairy so probably not a werewolf. My bet is that you're either a Fae or a mermaid. So which one is it?"

His words free a memory and I go still. The last time I was booked they had tested my magic. Not just to see the level but also to see the type. It had registered as predominantly sea magic since I'd been feeding on a group of selkies at the bar.

I turn my gaze to the vampire. "How many times have you been booked?"

He grins at me, flashing his fangs. "This'll be my fourth."

I smile back like I think that's cool. "Do they still run all those tests on you?"

"Absolutely. Those and more."

Shit. Shitshitshit. I have to figure out a way out of here. I'm full to the brim with werewolf magic and they're going to know something is wrong.

The vampire is shifting closer to me and I'm pretty sure he's eyeing my neck. I open my mouth to tell him to piss off just as he lunges at me. My elbow meets his jaw so fast he must see starts. He reaches for me and I grab his hand, twisting it hard until I hear a snap. He howls in pain.

"I told you to keep your hands to yourself."

The doors of the truck fly open. We've arrived. 

"Everyone out."

As we step out, they slap a pair of cuffs on each of us that's custom fit with mini Singhers. They're probably trying to make us less dangerous but I've tasted this group and I don't think these tiny machines will do much if it really comes down to it. The vampire glares at me as he's led away. I roll my eyes at him. His wrist is already healed so I don't know what he's upset about.

We're led straight to waiting cells. These cells are specially designed for the Flooded. They're iron lined and ringed in salt and charms to keep the magic in. They're also kept at a near freezing temperature which is why they're nicknamed coolers.

I walk around the perimeter of my cell, glad I stole a coat from Clyde's. There's a metal toilet, a metal bench and nothing else. Two cameras look down at me from the corners and I try to avoid looking at them so they won't get a clear view of my face. The door has an iron studded window and I use it to look out into the hall. There are dozens of coolers just like mine dotting the corridor and guards patrolling at regular intervals.

I groan internally, angry at myself for getting into this situation. What am I going to do? I can't let them test my magic. There's no secret that the Arc steals people to study them. It started right after the flood when the world was in chaos and desperate for answers. First it was people that wouldn't be missed. Homeless people, orphans, elderly folks. Then, slowly, more and more people started going missing. Anyone different or helpful was whisked away in the middle of the night. The only reason anyone knows is because a few of them have escaped over the years. The Arc denies everything, of course, and now they're too powerful to stop. It's not much of a democracy if all your opponents die mysteriously.

I notice a keypad next to the door. A little red light lets me know the door is locked. I press a few buttons to see what happens. It beeps at me angrily.

"Don't touch the buttons." A voice crackles from a speaker in one of the cameras.

At least I know they're actually watching now. I flash a thumbs up to let them know I understood.

I stand with my face pressed against the glass window while my hand rests next to that keypad, far enough away that whoever is watching won't be upset with me again. I can feel the tiny hum of magic that powers the box.

An idea sparks in the corner of my mind and I pull away from the window to sit on the metal bench. I pull out my phone and shoot a text to Martha.

Me: You up?

Her answer is slow but eventually it comes.

Martha: Everything OK?

I glance up at the cameras. My phone is unencrypted and the cameras have a full view of my screen so I type up a coded message.

Me: Got arrested. Over the limit. I pulled the three of swords again this morning so I should have known better. I have half a mind to throw the whole deck out. Anyway, lunch tomorrow? The usual spot?

Her reply comes a few seconds later. A thumbs up. I smile and put away the phone, returning to the window with my hand resting on the spot in the wall where the magic current is the strongest. I test the magic inside it, pushing and pulling on the current. I'm pleasantly surprised to find the magic inside the wires more than willing to bend to my will. I close my eyes and mentally reach down through the flow of magic to see where it leads. It twists and turns, leading me to dead end after dead end until... there! I found what I'm looking for.

I pace around the room again, wondering if I really have it in me to attempt an escape. Then I remember what happened the last time the Arc almost caught me. The guns pressed against my head, the shock collar, the dead bodies. I shiver.

I watch and wait. When the next guard passes I take the chance and push. I shove as much of the magic inside of me into the wires as will fit. I guide it through the maze of currents, down the path I've scouted,  to the circuit breaker in the basement. I throw my desperation behind the magic. This has to work. I refuse to wind up in a dirty lab somewhere hooked up to a million wires while some scientists poke and prod me.

The lights go out. Nothing happens for a long, long minute and then they flicker back on. I feel the spot on the wall and wrinkle my nose. It isn't magic I find there but electricity. They have a backup generator running somewhere.

Well, go big or go home.

The electricity complicates things but I reach out again. Electricity feels different. More angry. More volatile. It pushes back against me and I have to fight against its flow to find its source. I stretch to my limits and find the generator in the basement. The thing feels like it's a hundred years old and hasn't been turned on in just as long. I grimace as its power grates against my brain, like nails against a chalkboard. 

Breathing deeply, I make another push of my stored magic into the grid. It's harder, like wading through jelly instead of water. I grit my teeth. With one final shove the magic bursts into the generator and fries it. The lights go out again.

I hold my breath and count. I doubt I have enough magic for a third attempt to be successful so I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. Sixty agonising seconds go by where nothing happens. Then, so softly I almost don't hear it, there's a click as the door unlocks. I don't touch it, don't do anything until I hear the thundering of footsteps outside of my door and the shouts of the guards. Then, I take a deep breath and plunge into the madness.

Bioluminescent glow strips light up the way to the exit but they're barely visible with all the bodies that have flooded into the hall. I'm assaulted with bodies and magic and the reek of human stench but I push it all away and start clawing my way down the hall. We're one level below the street and I make my way into a stairwell. I have my foot on the first step ready to climb when I feel it. It's so pure, so beautiful. I've never felt magic this strong before and it's hard to resist the temptation of following it to its source and taking a peak. But no, I don't have time for a detour.

"Hey! You! Where do you think you're going?" The deep voice of a guard on the landing above startles me.

Or maybe a detour is exactly what I need. I turn around and run down. I hear the booming steps of the guard as he follows me so I move quickly and quietly down two more flights before I silently slip through a door. I press my back to the wall, wait, and listen. He thunders past, heading deeper into the belly of the Tower. I breathe a sigh of relief and head down the hallway, intending to take the staircase on the other side to avoid encountering the guard again.

There is no other stairway, though. This floor consists of only two things. An elevator that isn't running and an iron door. The power that's leaking from behind that door is making my bones vibrate. The source.

I glance behind me, making sure that I'm alone. One quick look won't hurt. Then I'll be back on my way.

The door is bolted from the outside and I slide it back. It creaks in protest.

I'm not sure what I'm expecting but it isn't this. The room is filled with computers and equipment. They're hooked up to surge protectors that double as batteries and the screens light up the room with an eerie multicoloured glow. They form a semicircle around the prone figure of a man. His arms and legs are shackled to the ceiling and floor. He's naked from the waist up and his torso is covered in dirt, sweat, and bloody gashes.

It's his wings that draw my attention, though. Fae wings. Iron stakes pin them to the wall and a dozen or more wires connect them to the machines. There are some patches with tattered black feathers and some patches that are just skin, blood, and metal.

He doesn't look up. "A little late for a visit," he growls.

His voice is smoky and deep and has just the smallest hint of an accent that I can't place.

I shouldn't be here. This was a mistake.

"Hello." I say, my voice squeaking. "Sorry for the intrusion. I'll just be leaving."

I start to back out of the room but his eyes snap up to meet mine and I freeze.

"You're not the doctor,"

"No," I agree, "I'm not. I'm just a bit lost but I'll get out of your hair and let you get back to... well..."

His eyes search my face. He's calm and calculating and he seems to make a decision about me because he pulls himself up a little straighter.

"Help me escape," he says.

It's not a question and I'm not sure why he thinks I'll be on board but I shake my head. I don't have time to help him, I have to save myself. I've got one foot out the door now and my hand is on the iron handle of the door.

"You will help me escape," he says more forcefully.

I ignore him and continue to tug the door shut.

"Please,"

Shit. He sounds so sad, so desperate. Wasn't I, only minutes ago, worried that I would end up in the exact same situations he's currently in? I check the clock on my phone and sigh. I guess I have a little extra time.

"Fine," I tell him, "but we have to make this quick. I'll get you free and then you're on your own."

I reach for one of the iron stakes and brace myself to pull it free.

"No. Not the stakes. It will take too long to get them all out. There's a saw over there." He catches my eye. "Cut them off."

Bile rises in the back of my throat at the thought but I can hear yelling from the floor above and it's getting louder. I have no time to argue and no better ideas so I find the saw on a rack along with twenty other instruments of torture. Some of them have fresh blood on them. I gag.

Cutting off the wings is both easier and harder than I imagined. The man makes no sound as I pull the saw back and forth through his wings. He just clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. The first one comes off with a sickening squelch. The second is quick to follow. Then he's free of them and dangling from the ceiling by his chains.

"Key," I whisper urgently into the silence, "Where's the key?"

His eyes are still shut and I'm afraid he's passed out but then he speaks. "By the door." Each word sounds like he has to force it free of his lips. "On the right."

I scan the door and see the key ring hanging on the wall. There are only five keys on the ring and it's easy to find the right one. I unshackle his arms first, then his legs. He staggers and slumps against me. I catch him but stumble back knocking over a bucket. White powder spills across the floor.

""Is that...salt?"

I force another wave of nausea down as I imagine what they could have done to this man with an entire bucket of salt. I try to shift my attention back to the more pressing matters at hand.

"Can you stand?" I ask.

He nods but as soon as he tries he collapses back into me. I get him over to the doorway then extract myself out from under his arm.

"Listen, I have to go now. The way out is down the hall and up the stairs. Best of luck!"

I turn to leave but he grabs me. "Wait. We both know I won't make it on my own. Please. Just get me outside and then you never have to see me again." I shake my head. "If it looks like we'll be caught I promise you can leave me behind and I'll make sure you get free. I won't let you get caught because of me. But I can't make it without you."

He's right. He'll never be able to make it out when he can't even walk by himself. I weigh my options. On one hand if I leave him I won't risk getting caught. On the other hand when he gets caught they'll execute him. So my options are either risking jail or sentencing a man to death.

I sigh heavily and turn back. I guide his arms into the sleeves of my jacket. It's black so it will hide the blood. I lead us out of the room and down the hallway to the stairs. It's agonising to watch him climb them. He has to rest after every step and it takes us fifteen minutes to reach the landing with the emergency exit. The door is already propped open and several people rush past us. Outside is chaos. Guards and prisoners are having a full on brawl in the streets and we have to wade through the sea of people. It's a no holds barred event and flashes of magic light up the sky. I half lead half carry the man away from the fighting and towards an alleyway. Just as we turn the corner into the alley I'm yanked backwards by my hair. 

"Get off me!" I yell, lashing out with my feet.

One of my kicks lands and the person recoils, releasing my hair. I stumble back and catch sight of the vampire from the transport truck. His mouth is covered in fresh blood and he gives me a toothy red grin.

"Hello beautiful," He snarls before lunging at me.

I wind up and slam my fist into his face. His fang slices into my knuckle and I suck in a breath. He reels back, running his tongue over his teeth to check that they're all still there. Unfortunately, they are.

He decides against charging me again and starts to circle.

"Where are you going in such a hurry," he taunts. "Don't you know the fun is right here? Come on, baby, give me a taste."

He makes a grab for me and I dodge. He snarls in frustration. I glance towards the man but he's barely standing, slumped against the entrance to the alley. I flick my gaze around and make sure no one else is watching us then make my move.

I dart forward, slip past the vampire's defences, and catch his mouth with mine. The hot tang of blood is revolting but I power through it. I'm anything but gentle as I catch hold of his magic and rip it free from him. He's immediately lost in the kiss, succumbing as my feeding sends him into a state of euphoria. I would have preferred to feed without the kiss but this is the quickest and most reliable way to drain someone.

When I'm sure I've taken enough I let him drop. He falls to the ground as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Disgusting. Then, I grab the man and take off down the alley.

"You've fulfilled your end of the bargain," He tells me weakly. "You're free to leave me here."

"Shut up," I answer, "If I leave you, you'll die. I'll take you somewhere safe for now. You can thank me later."

It's a stupid, impulsive decision, but I'm high on adrenaline and vampire magic and it's making me reckless. One more alley and a half a block away Martha is sitting in an ugly, beat up, gold sedan.

"What the hell is going on?" She demands as she jumps out of the driver's seat and pulls open the back door. "And who the hell is this?"

I shove the man inside and he collapses onto the seats. "Power outage. Riot. Not good." I wheeze. He's a lot heavier than he looks.

Before I even close my door she's racing down the street.

"This is so bad, Lex," she says without looking at me. "There are guards everywhere." She turns and catches sight of my face. "Holy shit, is that blood on your face?"

"I'm fine. Just take the back roads and get us to my place. We just have to make it to Leechside. They won't follow us there."