Conticent

The phone’s sharp ring pulled me from sleep, and I blinked groggily at the screen. Jane’s name lit up, the time reading just past eight in the morning. Only three hours of sleep—great. I sighed, forcing myself to sit up and rub the exhaustion from my eyes before answering.

“C,” Jane’s voice was tight on the other end. “Are you up?”

“Barely,” I muttered, my voice still heavy with sleep. “What’s going on?”

“Get to the station,” she said, her words clipped and urgent. “It’s serious. Miranda’s officially a suspect. We’re heading to her place now to bring her in.”

I snapped to attention, immediately reaching for my coat draped over the chair. “What makes her a suspect now?”

“The receptionist came through,” Jane explained. “He overheard a heated argument between her and Alisha in that hotel room. It got pretty intense, C.”

“Wonderful,” I grumbled, already moving toward the wardrobe. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“See you then.”

As the call ended, I threw open the wardrobe, grabbing the first thing my hand landed on—a plain black shirt. I pulled it over my head, straightening the collar as I closed the door. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror—a face marked with fatigue. Scratches ran across my right cheek, shadows clung under my eyes, and my hair was a mess. Even my gaze looked dull, as lifeless as the shirt I was wearing.

The room around me was simple and sparsely decorated. A small desk cluttered with old case files and a lamp stood in one corner. The bed I’d just left was rumpled, sheets tangled from restless sleep. Light filtered in through thin curtains, casting a muted glow over the bare walls and the single chair by the window. ‘No personal touches, just a boring, functional space, a place for work and not much else.’ as Jane described to my mother.

“Hmm,” I mumbled to myself, shaking my head as I grabbed my keys from the table. “What a mess this case is turning into.”

As I left my room, I took a moment to check on my mom. She was on the phone with a friend, cheerfully chatting while savoring Jane’s creamy tomato pasta. Not wanting to interrupt, I tiptoed quietly down the corridor, careful not to make a sound. I reached the door, slipping on my shoes as silently as possible, then closed it gently behind me.

But just as I thought I’d made my escape, the door swung back open, and there she was—my mom, still holding the phone. She paused her conversation, giving me that all-too-familiar look.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded, eyebrow raised. “Why not let me know?”

I let out a sigh. “I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d try to stop me.”

“And you’re right,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. “Helion told you to take the day off, remember? So, take the day off. Come back inside.”

“Mom, come on,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “I’m going stir-crazy just sitting around. I’m fine, really.”

“Get inside,” she repeated, her tone brooking no argument. “Do it for me.”

I hesitated, then confessed, “We’ve got a suspect. I need to be there when we bring her in.”

“No, you don’t,” she insisted, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

I reached over and kissed her cheek softly. “I almost died because of this case, Mom. I have to see it through.”

She sighed, a tired smile tugging at her lips. “You’re just like me… stubborn as a mule.”

I gave her a small nod. “Lock the door when I leave. And don’t forget to take your meds, okay? Goodbye, Mom.”

“Goodbye,” she said, her voice softening. “Come back safely, okay?”

“Hmm,” I mumbled as I turned away.

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me like your father,” she snapped lightly. “Say ‘Yes, I will, Mom.’”

“Yes, I will, Mom,” I replied, my tone still flat but obedient.

“Good boy.”

I stepped into the elevator, hitting the button for the ground floor before leaning back, my eyes fluttering shut. I wasn’t sleepy—just bone-tired. Every inch of my body ached, the kind of weariness that only a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee could cure. But that was a comfort I couldn’t afford right now. I’d told my mom I wanted to see this case through, but that wasn’t the real reason.

I had to find out more about that woman—the royal vampire who saved me. I’d lied to everyone, claiming I didn’t know who killed that man in Tidbit, but the memory was crystal clear. Maybe she had a link to the case, some hidden connection. It seemed unlikely, but I couldn’t shake the thought.

“Hmm…” I muttered to myself, lost in thought. “A royal in Tidbit, of all places?”

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and I stepped out, my mind still buzzing. After a brief walk through the building’s halls, I reached the towering double doors of the megabuilding and pushed through them, bracing myself as a gust of cold air hit my face. Outside, rain poured steadily, people darting for shelter or huddling under bus stops, their faces blurred by the mist.

A sudden prickle of unease crawled up my spine, and I instinctively turned, hand moving to where my gun should have been—only to find my holster empty.

“Hmm, great.” I muttered. “Left my gun in Tidbit. Just great…”

I shook my head and faced forward again, pulling my coat tighter against the rain. My thoughts kept drifting back to that vampire, the way she tore through that man like he was nothing.

Kiruha District, Liora Street—a jungle of concrete and steel where megabuildings scraped the sky, each one towering at least 50 stories high. The neon lights of markets and shops spilled out into the streets, flickering in the rain like digital fireflies. Even the smallest street vendor had his cart bathed in that neon glow, his face tinted electric blue and pink.

Since my car was still at the station, I headed toward the bus stop, hands buried deep in my pockets. Taxis were out of the question—too pricey for my empty wallet. In any way possible, I always tried to save where I could; my goal was to get a cyber implant for my mom. A pair of C-tier cyber eyes would’ve cost a small fortune, so I planned to buy just one for now, just enough to get her wired.

As I approached the bus stop, my ears caught snippets of a conversation nearby. Two women stood close, their voices low but still audible over the hum of the city.

“Did you hear about Alisha?” one of them asked, her tone tinged with worry.

The other nodded, her face tightening. “Yeah. Poor girl. I heard it was the wraiths.”

“And Helion talks about a future with them?” the first one scoffed, her voice laced with skepticism. “Total bullshit.”

Reaching the bus stop, I shook off the rain clinging to my coat and leaned against the cold metal of the shelter. My thoughts drifted back to Alisha and the tangled web of this case. The city seemed to pulse around me, alive with secrets hidden beneath the layers of neon and rain…

Sometimes I hate this city. Sometimes, I hate it even more.

As the bus pulled up in front of the stop, I climbed aboard, digging my bus card out of my pocket. The card was a bit battered, its edges worn, but it still worked well enough. I swiped it against the machine, which beeped with a lag, as if the system was half asleep. For a second, I thought it might reject the card altogether, but then the screen blinked green, and I was in.

Just as I took a step to move down the aisle, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I paused and turned, finding myself face-to-face with a tall woman, about my age, her eyes carrying a touch of embarrassment but her smile steady.

"Hey, excuse me," she said, her voice polite but hurried. "I think I lost my bus card. Would you mind tapping yours for me as well?"

I gave a slight nod, swiping my card again to cover her fare. She let out a relieved smile and a quiet "thanks" as I continued deeper into the bus, searching for a spot to sit.

Naturally, there wasn’t a single seat available. I stood near the window, leaning against the side, and shut my eyes for a moment. Just as I tried to relax, that same woman from before stood beside me, giving a quick smile and a nod before leaning back as well. I ignored her, attempting to find some peace—but the relentless ads from the bus speakers made that impossible. Every few seconds, there was another shout about insurance, condoms, energy drinks... I silently cursed myself for not bringing my headphones.

It didn’t take long for the woman to become the focus of other passengers' attention. She had striking features—sharp eyes that didn’t miss a thing, hair that looked like it got special treatment every morning, and her skin seemed to glow despite the gray, rainy day outside. Standing at 177 centimeters, I realized she had a good fifteen centimeters on me.

"I noticed your holster," she said, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "But it’s empty. Are you a police officer?"

"No," I replied, lying without hesitation and keeping my answer as clipped as possible.

"Oh—I just thought you were," she said, her smile softening slightly.

"Mm-hmm," I muttered, not looking to extend the conversation.

She took the hint and went quiet, giving me the space I desperately needed. If traffic worked in my favor, I’d be at the station in ten minutes. Not that I was getting my hopes up.

“That Tidbit thing was insane.” A man said to his friend. “Can you believe it? A grenade!”

“Yeah.” His friend replied. “Mad insane. I heard it was The Noble Americans.”

“Crazy. I thought they weren’t active in Tidbit.”

“Yeah, weird.”

—

Stepping off the bus, I stretched out the stiffness from the ride and started making my way toward the station. The rain had finally stopped, and the clouds were breaking apart, revealing the sun. The traffic hadn’t been as bad as I feared—I was only five minutes late, which, given the string of red lights, was a small victory.

After a brief two-minute walk, I arrived at the station and was just about to head up the stairs when I heard a sharp whistle behind me. I turned to see Jane, Leo, and James in their car, parked nearby. Leo, who was in the driver's seat, waved me over.

"Hey! Come on!" Leo called out, a grin on his face. "We just wrapped up the paperwork. We've got the warrant."

"On my way," I said, quickening my pace toward the car. "Time to pick up Miranda."