Just Another Job

The Inmate

Hmm, I think I'm beginning to realize the merits of cliffhanger endings. Muahahah

Picture of John Harting on the sidebar

"Mr. Marks. Can I call you Cobalt?" 

"No, but you can call in the bad cop, because I don't think you'll be getting very far with this nice-guy routine." 

 The man smiled slightly before sitting down in front of me. My hands were cuffed to the table, connected by a long chain. Apparently I was considered too dangerous to sit through an interrogation without restraints. Smart move on their part. I might have been able to rip through the chains anyway, considering my enhanced strength, but that would do significantly more harm than good. I had to get ahold of someone who could scramble my bloodwork that was being processed. Shifter blood was hard to spot, but an analyzer who knew what he was looking for could pose serious problems. 

"Look, Cobalt, I don't think you realize how much trouble you're in," the cop said, bringing my attention back to him. "We have you on six accounts of murder, that we know of, and we can implicate you in several more, not to mention armed robbery and car theft." 

I leveled him with a steely stare, not saying anything. He blinked at my silver eyes, and looked away. 

"Fine. You don't want to talk to me? I'll let you think about it overnight." 

I wasn't falling for it. Overnight? I couldn't possibly have been in this room all day. He was trying to mess with my mind. 

"I want my phone call," I said before he could leave. 

"Fine. But make it quick," he said, digging a phone out of his pocket and sliding it across the table. I wasn't fooled by the nonchalant lending of his cellphone. They were trying to fool me into thinking that  I was off the record, that the call I was going to make wouldn't be traced. Right. I knew I couldn't call Ian or any of my other rogue contacts. That left basically one option. 

Still keeping an eye on the interrogator, I dialed the familiar number, waiting for him to pick up. 

"Jasper Marks," the deep voice on the other side stated. 

I paused, not having spoken to my brother since the day I left, several months ago. I cleared my throat. "Jasper, it's me." 

Jasper hesitated. "Cobalt. What's going on?" 

I fiddled with the chain on my handcuffs as I spoke. "Got myself into a little trouble. Landed in the Dunlap, Illinois jail." 

"I see." 

I knew that Jasper would pick up on the hidden meaning behind my words. No matter how bad relations were, shifters were obligated to do one thing: help each other stay hidden. Jasper would be able to get a hold of someone who would scramble my bloodwork results, just in case a sharp eye was looking to pick up on something like that. I relaxed slightly, knowing that Jasper would take care of it. 

"Thanks, Jasper, I owe you one." 

Jasper grunted in answer, and then was silent. I wasn't sure what to say, and I'm sure he felt the same way. This awkward silence was strange considering how close we had once been. Before I screwed everything up. I could still picture his battered and bleeding body after I had beat him to a pulp not ten feet away from my parent's bodies. What the hell had I been thinking? And the killer part was that he had let me do it. 

"How are you?" he asked, breaking me from my torturous thoughts. 

"I'm fine," I answered, which was ironic, considering I was sitting in prison. But Jasper knew I couldn't go into the details, not with every word being recorded.