Dark Matter - The Mors Mortis Trilogy Book 2

Chapter Eighteen - Whatever's Necessary

Zarah was feeling drowsy, woozy and disoriented, when the door to the interrogation room finally opened.

Her return to the world of the dead had been clumsy, the pain of her bullet wound insistent enough to make the process difficult. But eventually, she'd managed it, and found the police waiting for her, ready with gauze, disinfectant and handcuffs. They'd been gentle enough when patching her up, but it'd done little to dull the ache of her arm, and sitting in this isolated room for hours certainly hadn't help.

But at least she hadn't been alone.

Danny and Cassandra had already been handcuffed to the table when Zarah was brought in, their eyes flitting constantly to the one-way mirror Zarah was sure Arelie stood behind.

She understood their curiosity; she'd spent the first hour here watching the mirror herself and muttering what she knew of Arelie to her companions. She was beginning to realise how little that was though.

She'd always written Arelie off as a psychopath, as someone who took joy from reckless destruction. Leah and Arelie had been as bad as each other in their actions, but where Leah confessed her crimes with murmurs and haunted eyes, Arelie had admitted hers brashly, with an ugliness that made Zarah shift away.

If it hadn't been for the wound blazing along her forearm, Zarah would've thought this was all a joke. To be arrested was one thing, but to be arrested by Arelie was something else entirely.

Eventually, her exhaustion caught up to her though, and Zarah found her curiosity weakening, her head dipping down onto Danny's shoulder as she fell into a fitful sleep.

She wasn't sure how long she'd dozed, caught in the haze of her mind, when the door finally creaked open. The noise made Danny tense beside her, and when Zarah looked up, she understood why.

Alice was being brought into the room, her face frozen somewhere between confusion and indignity as an officer led her to the chair beside Cassandra and cuffed her to the table alongside them.

Danny's eyes swung to Zarah.

"Who's that?" he breathed, his brow furrowed.

"That's Alice," Zarah whispered. "She adopted Leah."

Danny's gaze darkened, but before he could reply, Cassandra was speaking.

"Alice?" she asked. "As in Alice Caldwell?"

Cassandra's eyes were fixed on Leah's adopted mother, her face draining of colour. For a moment, Zarah frowned in confusion, but then one of Danny's stories replayed in her mind; one of a woman, married to Brenton Caldwell, who'd been killed by the rebels after asking for help from the S.I.S. Danny had told her the story quietly, in the middle of the night as she kept watch for Jared; his voice deep and comforting in the darkness.

"Yes," Alice said, eyeing Cassandra with a slowly dawning recognition. "You were part of the S.I.S, weren't you?"

Cassandra nodded, but continued to stare, her gaze uncertain.

Zarah cleared her throat.

"Alice, are you okay?" she asked. "Why did they arrest you?"

Alice's eyes trailed beyond Cassandra and settled on Zarah.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said. "They want Leah."

"You're right, we do."

Zarah's eyes swung to the door to find Arelie leaning against the frame. She was clad in police gear, the royal blue bright against the bleached walls, and the shock of what she was coursed through Zarah once again.