occur every few centuries. Sawiskera tried to do an ancient ritual that would swap my humanity for his vampiric powers and ... you don't believe a word I'm saying."
The Sergeant crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Selah. "Fact one, you have manifested vampiric powers while human . Fact two, you appeared in a video feed, murdering Colonel Caldwell. Fact three, your alibi is ridiculous. Fact four--"
"That's not a fact! That's your opinion!" Selah almost rose out of her seat, but controlled herself at the last minute. "At least investigate further! You'll see that I couldn't be Arachne, that I've been in Brooklyn up until a month ago, and then in Miami. I couldn't have been in two places at once."
McKnight stood up. "Investigate further? There's a war going on. Outside these walls, millions are hitting the road with nowhere to go but six feet under. If you think we have either the time or inclination to launch an investigation, you are sadly mistaken. As a citizen of the vampire nation of Miami, you are not even entitled to trial by military court. Instead, you'll be sentenced by my commanding officers." She leaned forward, hands on the table, and stared Selah full in the face. "Did you really think you'd get away with murdering a Colonel?"
"You don't care about the truth, do you?" said Selah. "Call General Adams. In Miami. He'll back me up."
"General Adams?" The Sergeant stopped, halfway to the door. She looked back over her shoulder. "The General that signed the Peace Treaty? He retired. Nobody's spoken to him in years."
"He's alive!" Selah stood and then struggled against the two soldiers as they fought to restrain her. "He's in Miami! I spoke to him! You have to get in touch, he can prove--" Selah doubled over as one of the soldiers rammed the butt of his rifle into her solar plexus. Her entire chest seized up and she gasped, unable to breathe, eyes wide as she stared at the closing door.
It was too late. The Sergeant had already left.
Chapter 3
The night passed slowly. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the setting of the sun did not draw forth Sawiskera's power. Selah didn't feel her eyes change, didn't feel her blood quicken. There was no slow build-up of power, no sense of burgeoning immortality. Just fatigue. Just pain. Just a grim resolution to not give into despair.
Sitting with her back to the bars, she tried to find a comfortable spot, but soon gave up. The soldiers had cinched her hands tightly behind her back and they were already throbbing, swollen once more.
"You there?" It felt strange, questioning the dark. Like throwing pebbles into a well.
"Silence." A new voice, harsh, older. More forbidding. Damn.
"Could I get some water?" Nothing. Selah waited then tried again. "Hello? I'm thirsty. Could I have some water please?" Still nothing. She licked her dry lips and shifted her weight. "How are things going outside--" And then flinched as the bars over her head clanged shockingly.
"Shut your pie hole. No talking." Footsteps as they returned to their post.
Gritting her teeth, Selah forced herself to relax, to lean back against the bars. She took a deep, careful breath within the hood and fought the prickling of tears, unable to wipe at her face.
She had given up on hoping for fairness a long time ago, but to have fought through all of Miami, to have survived LA, and to have undone Sawiskera's curse only to end up in the hands of an uncaring military was a particularly bitter twist. Worse, alone in the confines of her hood, unable to hide from her thoughts and guilt, she couldn't convince herself that this wasn't a deserved fate; she had killed Colonel Caldwell. The image of her nails raking through his throat flickered before her mind's eye, no matter how she tried to turn away from it. No matter the justifications, the excuses, nor the fact that he had been a heinous drug dealer who was poisoning millions. His blood was on her hands. Shouldn't she pay the
The Sergeant crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Selah. "Fact one, you have manifested vampiric powers while human . Fact two, you appeared in a video feed, murdering Colonel Caldwell. Fact three, your alibi is ridiculous. Fact four--"
"That's not a fact! That's your opinion!" Selah almost rose out of her seat, but controlled herself at the last minute. "At least investigate further! You'll see that I couldn't be Arachne, that I've been in Brooklyn up until a month ago, and then in Miami. I couldn't have been in two places at once."
McKnight stood up. "Investigate further? There's a war going on. Outside these walls, millions are hitting the road with nowhere to go but six feet under. If you think we have either the time or inclination to launch an investigation, you are sadly mistaken. As a citizen of the vampire nation of Miami, you are not even entitled to trial by military court. Instead, you'll be sentenced by my commanding officers." She leaned forward, hands on the table, and stared Selah full in the face. "Did you really think you'd get away with murdering a Colonel?"
"You don't care about the truth, do you?" said Selah. "Call General Adams. In Miami. He'll back me up."
"General Adams?" The Sergeant stopped, halfway to the door. She looked back over her shoulder. "The General that signed the Peace Treaty? He retired. Nobody's spoken to him in years."
"He's alive!" Selah stood and then struggled against the two soldiers as they fought to restrain her. "He's in Miami! I spoke to him! You have to get in touch, he can prove--" Selah doubled over as one of the soldiers rammed the butt of his rifle into her solar plexus. Her entire chest seized up and she gasped, unable to breathe, eyes wide as she stared at the closing door.
It was too late. The Sergeant had already left.
Chapter 3
The night passed slowly. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the setting of the sun did not draw forth Sawiskera's power. Selah didn't feel her eyes change, didn't feel her blood quicken. There was no slow build-up of power, no sense of burgeoning immortality. Just fatigue. Just pain. Just a grim resolution to not give into despair.
Sitting with her back to the bars, she tried to find a comfortable spot, but soon gave up. The soldiers had cinched her hands tightly behind her back and they were already throbbing, swollen once more.
"You there?" It felt strange, questioning the dark. Like throwing pebbles into a well.
"Silence." A new voice, harsh, older. More forbidding. Damn.
"Could I get some water?" Nothing. Selah waited then tried again. "Hello? I'm thirsty. Could I have some water please?" Still nothing. She licked her dry lips and shifted her weight. "How are things going outside--" And then flinched as the bars over her head clanged shockingly.
"Shut your pie hole. No talking." Footsteps as they returned to their post.
Gritting her teeth, Selah forced herself to relax, to lean back against the bars. She took a deep, careful breath within the hood and fought the prickling of tears, unable to wipe at her face.
She had given up on hoping for fairness a long time ago, but to have fought through all of Miami, to have survived LA, and to have undone Sawiskera's curse only to end up in the hands of an uncaring military was a particularly bitter twist. Worse, alone in the confines of her hood, unable to hide from her thoughts and guilt, she couldn't convince herself that this wasn't a deserved fate; she had killed Colonel Caldwell. The image of her nails raking through his throat flickered before her mind's eye, no matter how she tried to turn away from it. No matter the justifications, the excuses, nor the fact that he had been a heinous drug dealer who was poisoning millions. His blood was on her hands. Shouldn't she pay the
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