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A simmering anger rises within me, and I grit my teeth as I lock eyes with her.
“I’ll have him gathered for questioning-” she begins, but I interrupt her.
“I’ll do it myself. Make the necessary arrangements.” I retort, cutting her off.
Without wasting another moment I pivot, striding purposefully down the corridor toward the isolation tanks, mentally thanking Caspian for sending me the layout of the building.
Each step fuels the burning rage coursing through my body.
The gates beep as I approach the holding cells, and I breeze past the guard, my anger smothering any fear of being caught. As I reach the isolation tank, I swipe my badge on the scanner, but my heart sinks as the display flickers red accompanied by two low beeps.
The guard standing before me trails his eyes down my body in an uncomfortable manner and I fight the urge to squirm. He turnsslightly, pausing for a moment knowing I’m waiting for him to swipe his own badge on the scanner.
“What does a detective want with a grave robber?” he asks, a hint of suspicion in his tone.
“Alleged,” I correct him firmly, holding his hard stare.
His tone turns callous and his eyes narrow as he responds, “What?”
My heart pounds.
“As far as official records are concerned, he is anallegedgrave robber,” I retort, “Unless there has been a conviction that I am unaware of.” As if to emphasize my confidence, I raise a brow at him.
The guard sneers at me, his voice dripping with disdain. “If you had witnessed how he nearly escaped us, you would know that he is far from innocent.”
I maintain my composure, despite the anger simmering inside me that feels as if it could produce visible smoke.
“That remains to be seen. Swipe. Please.” I assert with more authority than before.
The guard’s lip curls with barely contained rage as he reluctantly complies, swiping his card against the scanner which responds with a green light and a chirp.
Not bothering to wait, I pull the door open, my gaze falling upon Darian on the ground with his head bowed.
I muster every ounce of self-control to resist rushing to his side. Instead, focusing my anger and attention to the guard and locking eyes with him.
“Those bruises look fresh,” I remark.
Darian’s head jerks at the sound of my voice, and he lifts his gaze to meet mine.
My heart thunders in my chest.
The guard shrugs nonchalantly, “He ran into the wall a few times. They tend to go mad in here by themselves if they’re here long enough. Seems he has less stomach for silence,” the guard replies callously, smirking with cruel amusement.
I fix my gaze on the guard, my voice cloaked in a deadly calm I didn’t anticipate. “If I review the surveillance footage and discover any mistreatment prior to a conviction, it will be your responsibility and your job that’s on the line.”
The guard stammers, his eyes widening in shock, unable to find words to respond.
It’s all I need to confirm my suspicion.
In my peripherals, I catch Darian leaning his head back against the wall, a slow smirk spreading across his face.
Handsome even when beaten to shit.
I turn my gaze to Darian, “Come on, alleged grave robber. I have some questions for you.”
Then, I shift my attention to the guard, whose face has turned as red as a tomato, “And you, bring food and water to the room within the next 10 minutes.”
Darian’s smile turns into a wince as he hauls himself to his feet limping slightly as he follows close behind me to the interrogation room. Once inside, he reaches out to flick the button for privacy, and I rip the camera plug from the outlet.
