Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,54
You are to turn Alex Smith over to us immediately. You can do whatever you want with the rest.”
“The circumstances have changed,” Agent Appleton shot back. “These terrorists are far more dangerous than you first let on. I have carte blanche to make decisions here, and I think we should sort all this out at HQ before we agree to any releasing.”
“Punyetang mga traydor.” Blood ran down Lola Urduja’s lip as she struggled back to her feet, as proud as a warrior despite the agents cuffing her wrists. “You sold out your own country. Your own people!”
“You’re mistaken. We’re keeping our country safe from the likes of you who come to pollute us with your foul magic.”
“No,” the old woman said, “cease the deception. People who don’t look and act like you is what you hate. Every other excuse is only a pretense.”
“The irony of defending yourself from foul magic,” Tala’s mother added, “by allying with the Snow Queen and Beira is too much.”
Appleton’s mouth twisted. “I’ve heard of you Makilings. Your bias against the Beirans runs deep. Pity I wasn’t aware of it a few days ago, but I’m going to add destroying government property to the list of charges against you, just because I can.”
The agents were already pulling at Tala, separating her and the other teens from the rest of the adults. “We won’t be needing those other kids,” Appleton said dismissively. “Bring that other Makiling with us, but send the rest to the detention center. We’ll tack conspiracy to commit murder to their charges.” He sneered down at Wilson, who was still on the ground and shaking uncontrollably, foam bubbling from his mouth. “Put him in cuffs too.”
“No.” Ryker gestured at Tala. “This one’s with me.”
“No deal,” Appleton said, and Tala winced as her arm was twisted even farther behind her back. “You’re gonna have to head over to the detention facility once we’ve finished processing her.”
“Detention centers,” Ryker mused. “Was this the one at Glendale? The one with the misleading bienvenidos murals on the walls? Or the one at Southwest Skies, with the lighthouses?”
The agent’s eyes narrowed. “And what’s that to you?”
“How long have you been an ICE agent, Appleton?”
“Twenty-five years. I’ve done more for this country than you can ever imagine, and I’m good at my job.”
“Yes. I can only imagine that you were very, very good at your job.”
The agent swung toward him, obviously annoyed, but paused mid-turn.
“Let me tell you a story,” Ryker drawled, stepping closer to him. “It’s an unusual story, but it’s one I’m the fondest of telling. Once upon a time there was a boy, you see, whose family came to this great country in the hopes of seeking a better life. They heard it all—the Royal States of America, the land of the free, the home of the brave.
“The boy had an American father, who had abandoned him and his mother. Years later, an uprising in their country forced the five-year-old boy and his mother to flee. His mother believed that America was their last hope. Her son was already an American citizen by virtue of his father. She thought it would make acceptance easier.”
Agent Appleton’s mouth opened angrily as if to interrupt, but his eyes widened, and he stopped moving. There was a soft, tinkling sound, like bells.
“They followed the rules. They left their country, entered America, and pleaded for asylum. The laws and the government in the land of their birth had not been kind, but they hoped America would be different.”
A queer, choking noise was rising out of Appleton’s throat, his face turning blue. Around them the other agents were frozen with the same odd immobility, barely able to breathe while ice crept over their bodies. Pained gasps left their mouths as thick puffs of mist, almost like souls leaving their bodies, one fogged breath at a time.
Ryker leaned in closer, a few inches from Appleton’s face, but his voice carried on, loud and strong. “They were not,” he informed the agent, and a horrific cracking sound came between them.
An arm dropped to the ground, completely frozen. Agent Appleton’s eyes, the only thing he could move, flicked from the empty socket of his shoulder to his detached limb, a wild panic in his gaze.
“The agents took the little boy away. They said his mother had given him up and returned to her own country. They said she told them he’d been a bad boy, that it was his fault they’d been caught and arrested, and