behind her.
“They grabbed Jason, but I ran. I should have stopped. But I ran instead. I don’t know how I got away, just hiding behind cars until I found a way out.”
Micha still looked confused.
“When I calmed down enough to think, I went through my pockets. All I had was my smokes and Micha’s card. He’d given it to me when I talked to him. So I hustled some change and called him from a pay phone. I’d just watched his wife die, and he was the only person I could call.” She took a long drag. She blew the smoke out slowly.
“Go on,” Sam said.
“I hid until he picked me up. I was out of my skull. I was sure they’d killed Jason. I didn’t know what to do. I needed Micha to help me, so I made a bad decision. Not the first one that night.”
“You enchanted him.” Sam sat up straight.
She nodded. “I made him forget he was married, in case someone called him while we were together. I just wanted him to get me somewhere safe, then I was gonna take it off him. But I couldn’t. It was stuck.”
“You were emotional when you did it,” Sam said. “That gives it power.”
She pushed the stub of her cigarette into the bottle, and it sizzled faintly as it hit the bottom.
“Micha took me to her place.” She indicated Cindy. “She hid me out. Us. Since Micha has a big gaping hole in his memory concerning his wife, who was just murdered, we thought things might be a little difficult for him.”
“I don’t remember this woman they’re telling me is my wife.” Micha’s voice was odd, flat yet tremulous. “I feel like I’m going mad. There’s pictures of her in all the papers. Hell, there’s pictures of her in my phone. But I don’t remember being with her. How can I not remember my own wife?”
The desperate edge in his voice made June’s stomach lurch.
“It’ll wear off,” Cindy said. “Maybe it’s best you don’t know right now. It’s saving you from a lot of despair, so you can save your own life.”
“I feel like someone is playing a big joke on me.” Micha looked down at his hands. “I can remember everything else—my work, my life, my family. There’s just these big empty spots where I know things used to fit, and I suppose that’s where she goes, but she’s a stranger to me.”
June swallowed thickly. “Micha, I’m sorry…”
Sam clapped his hands together, cutting through the moment. “Stop it. We have no time for bullshit and pity. Regret is a useless emotion.” He focused on June. “Your power is ‘stupid strong,’ as the kids say.”
“I don’t think the kids say that.” She set her bottle aside.
“Whatever the hell they say, you have an impressive amount of whatever it is you have. That’s why the Institute wants to stick a huge scientific dildo up you.”
June twisted her lips.
“They took one look at your eyes,” Sam said, “and they knew.”
“My eyes? What about my eyes?”
“They’re very green,” Cindy said.
“I thought you were wearing contacts the first time I met you,” Micha said.
“I know they’re really green. I’ve had them my entire life.”
“Your eyes are connected to your brain,” Sam said. “The stronger your power, the more your eyes are affected.” He widened his own at her, dark and gleaming. “How powerful are you? Aural captivators are rare, but not undocumented. I’ve heard about the Siren Song.”
“That’s a myth,” she said sharply.
“What’s a Siren Song?” Cindy asked.
“A strong enough aural captivator,” Sam said, “can harm a person with their voice. Maybe even kill them. So they say.”
“Are you going to help me or not?” June sat forward. “Or are we just gonna talk shit all day? If you can’t do anything for me, tell me, so I can find someone who can.”
“Yes, I’m going to help you. But you have to give me a little time. Right now, go get some air and calm down. I need to make some phone calls.”
The room had a balcony. She took Sam’s advice and went out for another cigarette. Towers loomed around her like watchful giants, the world buzzing around their bases far below. The air ripped and pulled at her hair and clothes.
After a few minutes, Micha stepped out, not wearing a coat. He walked to the railing where she stood. June finished her cigarette and flicked the butt out into the wind.
“I’m not angry at you,” Micha said. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“Yeah, and how do you know that? You don’t know me.”
“I think you wouldn’t look at me the way you do if you didn’t feel some remorse.”
She didn’t respond.
Micha jerked his chin outward. “What do you think of it? Chicago?”
She bent over and rested her arms on the railing.
“Doesn’t matter what I think of it. Jason, he’d be acting like a stupid tourist right now. It’s not like L.A., where he lives. For one, you don’t have as many pretentious douche bags walking around.”
Micha chuckled. “You just haven’t been to the right places yet.” He shifted toward her. “This is a true metropolis. Something to behold. Intimidating sometimes, but majestic. A testament to what humans can create. It’s an entity, you know. We as entities create other entities. That’s what humans do.”
“You’re not from here, are you? No one talks about where they live like that.”
“I am, actually. I guess I’m just not jaded.”
June almost said “you will be,” but Micha didn’t need any more negativity.
“So your brother is an actor in L.A.?” Micha said. “You and I haven’t really talked much, have we?”
“It’s not been a very good time for socializing. And yes, he is. He does more grunt work at studios than acting right now, but he’s working on it.” Was working on it? She pushed the terrible thought away.
“Has he been in any movies?”
“He’s done some extra work. A few commercials. Had a small part in a TV pilot, but it never got picked up.”
“You know, it’s okay that you ran.”
She squinted against the wind. Micha’s hair fluttered over his forehead, his own eyes squinted as well.
“Tell my brother that.”
“Out here, on the run, you still have a chance to save him. In there, if you’d let them catch you? You’d both be screwed.”
Her hands trembled from the cold. Or emotion. Or both.
“Right now both our lives are messed up,” Micha said. “But we have to figure out the right thing to do before more people get hurt. Before anyone else goes down because of this.”
Putting the needs of others first. She being selfish as she was, she didn't know if she could ever tolerate someone like that.
“You’re a good man, Micha.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know me.”
The air whistled around the balcony and pushed under her shirt like a solid icy mass.
“Why don’t we go back inside?” Micha motioned to the door. “It’s cold out here.”
She