“Aw man.” Briar groaned as the blurry world came into focus, well, ish. Focus in that it was still spinning, and the buildings seemed to be bouncing from fuzzy to only a little off color from one blink to the next. It didn’t help that wherever she was looked unfamiliar to her, so her mind was scrambling to catch up on a few different levels. Honestly, usually when she woke up with a pounding head so severe she wanted to throw up she had been in that place before, and her brain could mash the previous image up with the shaky one.
Now, not so much.
Where was she?
Okay.
Back track. No, wait, damage assessment.
Possible concussion, head bleeding, arm bleeding, at least one broken bone including one of her fingers, hip fucked up but not broken. Ankle hurt but it wasn’t broken. Walkable and that was all she needed. Nose clogged. Clothes fucked up. No knife wounds, or gunshots? Yea, that seemed right. Okay. Progress.
Now, back track.
Daniel wouldn’t make her a bomb, she had to MacGyver one up herself, and she hadn’t made a bomb in at least fifty years, and this one had to get into — oh shit. The safe. Did she get it? Aching fingers felt in her inner pocket before she found the necklace and the pouch of, well, whatever it was, she didn’t ask questions. That was one of the reasons she was recommended for this. Get back the items in the safe that had been stolen from her client, that was all the justice they required, but anything extra was acceptable — including the physical.
But that wasn’t her modus operandi , at least not when it wasn’t personal.
So she hadn’t felt bad about the bomb, but one of the materials must’ve reacted with something else or something because it went off twice? Then there was fire? That sounded right. She had dove out the third story window. Ah. That was why her arm was broken. Cool. Right. Hip probably too. Briar had managed to make a run for it, adrenaline powering her steps, and she found a park in the posh neighborhood next door and passed the fuck out. What time was it? Still dark.
Aw man, there were lights in the parking lot, and steps to boot. But it wasn’t a patrol car at least. Fuck. What face was she wearing? Her own? Best not be Maeve’s, a deep breath and yeah okay, her own, that was good, this one was long gone from any government records, and she paid good money to keep it that way.
Calls coming in at 1am were never a good sign and this one was no different as home alarms began going off sending out emergency police, fire and paramedics. Cutting the siren as they reached the neighborhood as a courtesy to those still sleeping, Lalo parked as he spied the body on the ground. With luck, they would not need a body bag. That was never a good call.
“Hey, you’re okay, lay down,” Lalo said gently, “I’m Lalo. What’s your name?” if she was awake and moving, that was an excellent sign. The stretcher was out behind him along with his partner, a rookie that barely knew her ass from a stethoscope, so unless they needed a paramedic, he was running the call.
As he spoke, he was already assessing her, giving her a visual once-over, and moving to check the arm that looked broken, “You wouldn’t happen to have been in a fire, would you?” he asked, since that was what had called him in. The auto-emergency feature in the home alarm went off, alerting fire and medical. The arm was definitely broken. Moving on.
Briar generally frowned on people touching her, especially strangers. Too many bad experiences, too many years where she couldn’t fight back no matter what was done to her. But he was lucky in that she was still only partly conscious, the moon was moving in ways that was damn unnatural even for someone from her neck of the woods.
“Bree.” The name fell easily from her lips, and if she had to call any of her people they would know it. Even in her hazy state, she still remembered Plan F. There was always a Plan F, it just wasn’t her favorite.
The boy was cute at least, gentle, and with the slight shimmer around him that she recognized as meaning he had encountered magic strong enough, and often enough, that it left a mark on him. But she couldn’t be sure he was one of theirs, not all the way, damnit. Wouldn’t that have made things easier? “Nope. Not I. You got any painkillers? Is my ankle broken? Left.” It hurt, but not broken hurt, while he was here though might as well make use of him. The New Yorker was coming out in her, that hodge podge accent and lack of proper manners, coupled with her voice raspier than normal from well, uh, everything.
“Arm is broken, ankle is likely badly sprained, and you’re a giant bruise,” he replied, feeling her ankle gently, “We’re going to get you on the stretcher, then you’re taking a ride with us. Need me to call anyone for you?” She was disoriented, which could make her resist out of confusion or be more agreeable and pliant. While she was agreeable now, that didn’t mean she would stay that way. Never assume. He’d seen too many calls go sideways because of that. He’d give her some pain meds in a minute, once they were in the bus, but he wanted her as lucid as possible so it was a delicate balance about when he gave them and how much.
Oh no way. That way lay madness. Briar had not let herself get carted off to a standard human hospital in at least a decade, and that time it was because she had been Masquerading as a CEO who had gotten poisoned in a board meeting. The effects were so severe and fast she didn’t have time to hide it. Now? Definitely not going to happen. Especially not with her real face, and making her hands have fake fingerprints was tedious and required more focus than she had at the moment. Not to mention her standard array of knives on her.
Bad plan.
“Absolutely not.” Briar muttered, blinking a few times and taking a deep breath as the world finally sharpened. It didn’t stop the pulse of pain in her body though, or the scowl on her face. “I’m fine. Just give me something so I don’t lose consciousness, I’ll call a ride and they’ll be here in a jiff.” Maybe. Possibly. If her phone didn’t die while she was out for X amount of hours. Plus she couldn’t exactly call an Uber to take her to Summerview, so it would have to be someone from Summerview driving all the way here to get her.
“Not a choice, sorry,” Lalo replied firmly, his partner and him bracing her as best they could and lifting her onto the lowered stretcher and strapping her down, “You can’t walk and you have a broken arm,” he had no choice but to take her in whether she liked it or not. “Don’t argue and it’ll be over quick enough.” He had worked with plenty of people who didn’t want to go the hospital for a number of reasons and if he could, he left them to it and respected their choice. This though would be a lawsuit if he didn’t.
A thread of panic shot through her as she was lifted, old memories of different bodies being held down flooded her vision and for a brief moment she forgot who she was and who they were. Just between one hammer of her frantic heart and the next. What if they took her blood? What if they gave her something that she hadn’t tested on her imbalanced blood? What if she changed shape in her sleep? It wouldn’t be the first time.
Briar had missed the first round of The Burning Times, she really didn’t want to be the cause of the second.
And maybe she was still a little rattled, you know, from almost burning to death. Well. Not almost. But still. It had been a hot minute since that kind of thing happened after she started being Maeve more often than not.
Her body seized in the stretcher before they could move her, the wrist of her uninjured arm twisting as her fingers dove into her jacket sleeve. Admittedly, this was not the first time she had been captured, but this was the first of this kind of manner. She could have gotten out of it faster by shrinking herself, except that was a last resort. Both of her legs kicked out, trying to keep herself on the ground as her small razor blade sawed away at the straps, “Arguing is going to be the least of your concerns if you don’t leave me the hell alone.” Alone alone alone, trapped and alone, she needed to get to a phone, needed to get out, couldn’t run, had to get to a phone.
Whoa, and this was the moment the went sideways. Shit. Watching like it was in slow motion, Lalo put himself between the girl, Bree, and his partner, brain processing faster than he could consciously comprehend. “Okay, sure,” he agreed, pushing his partner backwards and out of danger. Granted, he was no more equipped to handle this, other than more experience. Whatever this chick was up to, it wasn’t legal and he wasn’t going to get in the middle.
Eyes flickering up and down over her, he slowly, keeping his hands where she could see them, reached for his metal clipboard. Opening the case, he pulled out a form from the back, “Sign this and you’re good,” he said. He’d get shit for it, but better than that than stabbed, “It just says you’re refusing medical treatment.” He would fill out the rest for her.
Briar got impatient, or her body did at least, surging against the bonds regardless of her injuries and she found herself crying out with a curse, and she reacted like a fearful animal, injured and defensive. Briar did all but growl even, and shifted before her mind could catch up to her. Smaller like a child and then back into an adult, her mother’s fearful face and the haunted looks of the other Freed staff members screaming at her to not be tied down.
She scrambled up and back against the nearest tree, her noninjured arm tucking away the razor so she could dig out her shattered phone.
“Fuck.” Briar was shaking when she threw her phone across the park, “Can you just wrap it up so I can walk?” There was an edge of desperation to her voice, feeling more on her own and at a loss than she had in a minute. Which was dumb, because she wasn’t exactly out in the middle of nowhere or in a place with no resources. But Briar was still Briar, and when she felt like she was running low on options she switched to lies. That, and taking a chance that he spoke Spanish and that his partner wouldn’t, “Please. If you take me to a hospital, my family will find me, just let me borrow your phone and call a friend. Please. If people here are complaining I’ll hobble my ass down to the nearest conoco.”
Watching her shift, Lalo cured in Spanish under his breath. He had heard of creatures like these and how it was best to leave them alone. And yet...she was injured. “Okay, okay, sshh, querida, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” he undid the straps to the stretcher carefully, one hand helping her sit up. “I got no idea how I’m going to explain this call without getting drug tested, but I get it,” he fished his phone out of his pocket, “Phone a friend. But I would appreciate an explanation, too. And one of those memory-zappers like the men in black have for my partner.”
Man. She needed a drink, she was shaking and almost felt like she was crashing even though the last time she did drugs was back when they thought LSD was good for you. Or you know, something along those lines. But she visibly calmed when he responded in kind, and didn’t call the cops on the crazy looking woman with unusual injuries, in a neighborhood she clearly didn’t belong in, and one trick that should have made him run or question his sanity.
The phone was snatched up like a dog grabbing a bone, immediately scooting back to put space between them again, eyes darting from him to the other woman who looked like she was about to collapse herself and had tucked herself back in the ambulance. Briar snorted as she sent out a text to one of her allies in the city, about thirty minutes away, but better than what she had now, and not at all human. It just said It’s a pretty day in May along with the name of the park, and she tossed it back, “You’re a gentleman and a scholar, kid.” She tried to grin but it came out shaky, running a hand through messy curls as she watched them, still twitchy on account of wanting badly to bolt out of there like a rabbit. “Why ain’t you running, anyway?” For all that she said she wanted his medical help, she was still cradling her arm to her chest protectively and tilting the injured spot on her head away from him. Instinct more than anything.
“I believe in many things that aren’t always easily seen,” he replied, touching his Santeros necklace through the material of his shirt. Granted, this was a little different and he fully intended to ask the internet some unusual questions later, but for now, he was rolling with it. “This...is unusual and not something I am familiar with directly, but not inconceivable. And I firmly believe that panic attacks and crises of faith are better scheduled for after work hours.”
“Yeah well, you should conceive making sure my bones don’t heal wrong. If I gotta rebreak my arm I am not going to be happy.” It hurt less than being shot but was still more than she wanted to deal with, “I got so many aches they are blurring together.” Maybe he had seen more than he realized, and that was his brain wasn’t going into meltdown mode like some did. Either way, it worked out for her and that was what mattered, “ ‘ts your fault for having faith.” Briar muttered, her fingers digging out her razor blade again and flipping it across her knuckles like a circus performer, just trying to stay calm and be a little goddamn personable to the person with the drugs and medical knowledge. And a far too good look at this face. Her face, goddamnit.
“I’m not a doctor for....you or anyone else,” Lalo retorted, “This is a simple fracture, but that doesn’t mean that x-ray’s aren’t needed. All sorts of things can be happening under the skin that I can’t see or feel easily,” again, not a doctor. “My job is to stabilize you and transport to the hospital so you can see those doctors. So if I fuck it up, it’s on you, I’m not liable,” then again, the chances of her suing were low. Very very low. “Sign it,” he handed her the pen and steadied the clipboard so she could.
Simple. Well it simply hurt is all she knew. Most of the time she was good at avoiding injuries, or had a backup plan. But she had gotten lax since she had started spending most of her time as a normal business owner instead of a thief. Besides, this one had been so simple. The only security had been the safe, but something unexpected happened, and the only backup plan she had were her nearby allies and even they weren’t expecting much from her.
“If you fuck it up, I’ll have something better later.” There were a few magical healers around here, it would hurt if they had to rebreak it but they could fix the damage still. Nothing permanent. Briar would be fine. She always was. Her uninjured hand reached out for the clipboard and the pen, pausing as it rested above the paper, “Wait. What name did I give you? It’s been a weird few hours. Concussions can do that.” That and a brain that wasn’t originally meant to keep ticking this long, but who was counting?
Of course she had more than one name. She apparently had more than one body as well. “Bree,” Lalo stated, displeasure evident. “And you owe me. I’m going to get more shit than this is worth. I should drag your ass to the hospital and have the police arrest you when you get violent. So be nicer.”
Ah, that sounded right. Bree’s usual face looked similar enough to Briar’s that they could be cousins, though Bree was prettier and softer than Briar in appearance. Most of her faces were though. She signed the paper with the last name associated with Bree in the state of Kentucky, of all places, and handed it. His next remark surprised her, and she let her eyes glow as a slow grin spread across her features, “You think that’s wise? Me and mine have you now. Your phone number, your job, your face,” And in a trick that was far more bold than she would usually do here, she took his face, hair and voice even as the rest of her stayed the same, the shift coming smooth after all these years, “You got any family you care about?” Voice low and contemplative, perhaps more menacing because of how utterly calm she had become with it.
But she only held it for a moment, letting it go and sliding it back into her own as easy as a snake’s scales slid into another stripe, “Besides, you should be nicer. You might just meet me again, by the looks of it I think part of you is one of us, and we have a way of finding each other.” Her head tilted to the side, wishing she could pinpoint exactly what had given him that slight shimmer but knowing it was real nonetheless and that was enough. Less had been crafted into a weapon by her in the past.
“Neat party trick,” Lalo commented, trying to suppress a shudder. That was freaky as hell and hard pass. “But I got tricks of my own that I don't share,” tricks that he would need to call his preceptors in New Orleans about to see if they could help. “Now,” he gripped her arm and began to splint it, ignoring however much pain it might cause.
The fact that he ignored her comment about him being like her wasn’t that surprising, humans had a way of not seeing or hearing things that their minds deemed irrational. The threat to his family too, after all, surely he knew he couldn’t win even with as little as he’d seen, so why not ignore it?
“Oh, I’m sure.” Briar smiled at him, wrapping her amusement and firm knowledge that she had been in worse situations around her like a protective blanket. The only reaction she gave when he set her arm was her face contorting, body staying still, though her other hand was wrapped around her razor again — just in case. As she waited for him to wrap it she glimpsed familiar headlights with the thick cloak of a glamour on them as they approached.
“I need my stretcher back,” Lalo said, eyes narrowing at the headlights of the approaching car. The paperwork and repercussions on this was going to suck. Badly. The only thing barely saving him right now was that his brother was fire chief.
Briar laughed as she stood, cradling her arm to her middle, all of her focus on keeping herself steady and not showing how it hurt. The car parked while she leaned back against the tree, uninjured hand back and gripping the bark with a white knuckled grip even though her face was relaxed. All except around the eyes, harder to hide the pain there. A woman in a an all black outfit with a few gold accents and imposing, shiny boots stepped out of the car. She walked through the park without paying Lalo and his colleague a second glance, leaning close to murmur something in Briar’s ear before picking her up bridal style as easy as she walked to take her to the car, “One of us.” Briar called over her friend’s shoulder at him, in a sing-song voice before laughing again.