Chapter Two
Keeping a mob of journalists at bay was not, Carmen Davis decided, a one-woman job.
"No comment, no interviews, you already heard the chief's press conference, and any bribe you try offering should be worth the jail time it'll buy you."
That shut most of them up. She was a veteran cop with all of seven years under her belt. She had been the right person in the right place when the right time came around. Usually, she couldn't be happier. Usually, she wasn't the spokeswoman and leading investigator on a high-profile case.
Most of the reporters were clearing out. She didn't need a cop's perception to know that one was behind her.
"Officer, what's the status on your promotion? Best case record in-"
"Williams?" Carmen took a long sip of her coffee. She'd heard it before.
"Yes?"
"What have I said about buttering up the officer?" Carmen asked.
"'Back, cretin,' 'don't get between a cop and her coffee,' and 'not in uniform.'" Brandon Williams paused, the back of his pen tapping against his chin. "Today, at least."
"Is that it? I thought I'd said something about your tie. I should have, at any rate. That is a positively atrocious design."
"You're breaking my heart, Davis. You insult my tie, ignore the perfectly horrible pickup line I saved just for you, and still won't give me a chance to see you out of that uniform."
She took another sip of cooling coffee to hide a smile. "Out of the uniform? In your dreams- and I don't want to hear about those." He blushed, of course, and stammered something about how he hadn't meant that, so she threw him a line. "Get out of here, Williams. The only news is that the Titans will be in on the investigation."
"Come on, Davis, I haven't had a scoop in weeks."
"You only get scoops when I drop a couple names?" Carmen shook her head, pretending disappointment. "Williams, go find your own stories. I have a job to do."
"Always working, Davis?"
"Sure seems that way. Speaking of work, don't you have a deadline for the noon broadcast?"
"I have an hour."
"Not here you don't. Get your photographer to snap a few pictures of the Titans, if you need something for the screen. Stills are fine, no video," Carmen said.
"You're the best, Davis."
"I know, Williams- and what have I told you about buttering up the officer?"
"Buy a better tie first," he said. He only grinned when she rolled her eyes. "Thanks."
Carmen stayed in the lobby as she drank the last of the barely lukewarm coffee. She counted four flashes of a camera, and had already seen a disgruntled cameraman pack his equipment in the van. Reporters were annoying, but they were like lawyers. She had to deal with at least one, so she chose one that was more amusing than annoying.
"Titans," she said when they were through the door. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. Have you had breakfast?"
"We did before early practice," Robin said.
"I'll brief you over food, then." Carmen didn't expect protests. "What kind of cop would I be if I couldn't offer coffee and donuts? The break room's right down the hall. You're here to do us a favor, the least we can do is feed you. Coffee, juice, donuts, and muffins are all out, we can get tea or hot chocolate if you'd like."
"You mentioned a situation," Robin said when he had a cup of coffee and a chocolate-covered donut. It wasn't remotely healthy, but he needed the calories and Batman wasn't there to lecture about proper breakfasts.
"There wasn't a containment breach, but it could have been," Carmen said. "The experts keep estimating just how much power Raven has, and they keep guessing low. She doesn't need words to throw chairs and people around, so the technicians decided to risk quite a few curses. Long story short, the morning was going as expected. She avoided questions, wouldn't be tricked into saying much of anything, and spoke in her language whenever she was too irritated."
"You couldn't understand half of what came out of her mouth," Cyborg guessed.
"We could guess at about a third, assuming that we have yes and no straightened out." Carmen refilled her thermos. She had been in the station since oh-dark-thirty, and her day wasn't getting any shorter. "She refused breakfast, barely paid attention to her Miranda rights before quoting them back perfectly, and spurned the three lawyers who spoke to her. She drove one poor slob to tears. When I feel bad for a lawyer- well, that doesn't happen often."
"Why'd you call us in?" Beast Boy asked.
"The technicians were practically drooling at the thought of a blood sample. Comparisons, karyotypes, sequencing- they have all sorts of ideas, but Raven wasn't going to let anyone with a hypodermic near her. She picked up the table."
"The solid metal thing that seats twelve people?" Cyborg asked.
"That's the one. She shoved that up as a barricade and sent the other chairs flying through the air. The guys on monitor duty said she put everything back in place very neatly when everyone was gone, exactly back where the things had been."
"Visual powers?"
"That's what we think, Robin." Carmen had known the Titans could pick up the details. From what she heard, they were a very smart group. "She'll probably act like nothing unusual happened, but she gave us more information than she has all morning. She definitely doesn't need to speak to start throwing things around, she has extraordinary vision and perception, and she can be impulsive."
"You think that she'd talk to us?" Robin asked.
"I think that Raven will talk to Starfire." Carmen regretfully set her thermos aside. She really shouldn't have more than seven cups on one day. "She did at least give us a few useful things, earlier. We have no way of telling what she can do and what's a lie, but we do think she has the telekinesis, teleportation, empathy, and telepathy. Joe and I still can't be sure, but that's the best guess at this point."
"Who's who, around here?" Cyborg asked.
"I'm Carmen Davis. Somehow, the high brass decided that this is my case. The chief is Joe Caldwell. The other person you might see around is Sophie Wells. She coordinates cops, lawyers, and just about everyone else."
"When do you want us to start earning our breakfast?" Beast Boy asked.
"You've earned more than breakfast with what you do." Some cops thought the Titans were a hassle. Carmen would rather not tangle with Slade and the usual villains herself, thank you very much. "I'll call you in after a few minutes. I doubt that I'll have any problems, and I think that what I have to say will go over better if it's just Raven and me."
They didn't like the idea, but she didn't want an audience. She doubted she could make the deal with an audience other than the cameras. Joe agreed with her. He agreed after a few hours of arguing, perhaps, but no one else had a better idea. Carmen would just have to trust that if Raven really wanted to take someone out, she wouldn't waste that chance on her.
"Good morning, Raven." The room looked like it had that morning, except for a few scratches in the floor. Carmen had her gun, of course, but that was secure at her hip. A glass of orange juice and a key were in her hands.
"Haven't we been over this?"
"I'm cutting back on the coffee- you know, the foul smelling stuff that has several mind-influencing drugs in it," Carmen said cheerfully. This she could do. A little sarcasm, a sincere smile, and a few fast curveballs were much better than finding seventeen variations on 'no comment' to feed reporters. "You're not the type to do anything for free, so let's make a bargain."
"What kind of bargain?"
"It's an easy one," Carmen said. She couldn't quite manage blithe, but she came close. Okay, Carmen. Just like talking the boys into letting you pitch at the sandlot- talk fast, pick up the ball, and throw a curve right past the batter before they say girls can't pitch.
"You promise to not throw things around unless your safety or personal space is compromised. If you must persuade people, you don't leave more than bruises. You also start eating meals regularly, so no one cries foul about the inhumane treatment." She didn't trust the demon, precisely. Carmen trusted that the demon could think logically, which was much better.
While Raven was still trying to find the catch, the key slipped into the lock. Carmen had convinced Joe that it just might help. Raven caused damage when she couldn't move- maybe she'd feel less threatened if she could.
Carmen was fast. She could get cuffs on a recalcitrant gangster in eighteen seconds flat, if he thought that he could use more than bluster against a lady cop. If he wasn't looking for a fight, she could spin him around, shove, clip, twist, and snap in seven.
Twenty seconds later, she had the attention of a wary demon. Carmen moved the glass of orange juice closer. "So, what do you say?"
"You are very strange."
She smiled, lounging back in the chair. She had told Joe. Carmen loved it when her gut was right. "It's been said. So, interested in lunch? All that I want in return is a little less of interior redecoration." The earlier questioners had made a severe mistake. They had tried to use simple words, which wouldn't do at all.
Carmen looked from Raven to the glass. "No poison. Want me to take a sip?"
"As if I would share with a human."
"That's the part where I'm supposed to be offended?" Carmen needed information, but rushing would get her nowhere. "The Titans just might drop in to talk. Do you think you'd listen if they were nice enough to bring lunch?"
The juice was gone. After one cautious sip, it had disappeared quickly.
"Perhaps I would listen," Raven allowed.
From what Carmen had read, there had been non-stop fighting for four days. This was the second day without any combat- which meant that Raven hadn't eaten for six. Carmen wouldn't touch calculus with her flashlight, but she managed addition just fine.
"We're five minutes from a college town, which means everything under the sun delivers." Carmen promised herself she wouldn't gloat too much, but she might have just made some progress. "What's for lunch?"
Carmen didn't know just what she had expected when Beast Boy, carrying the tray with six drinks, had tripped over the leg of Starfire's chairs.
It wasn't six cups landing delicately on the table, covered in black edged with bright light, while a circle of that same energy pushed Beast Boy back onto his feet.
"Nice save," Cyborg said, the only comment from the Titans. "You had the turkey sandwich, right?"
Carmen recognized that unnerved feeling. She wasn't afraid. Fear ran hot and ice cold. She was wary. Maybe she had grown up in a suburb of San Francisco, but her views of magic could stay conservative. She didn't like what she didn't understand. She wasn't a whiz at science by any means, but she liked laws. Gravity was gravity- and there was a sandwich flying through the air.
She would need at least three days to get used to this.
Carmen checked her list. She could have tried going by memory, but she saved room for other details. She had screwed up her back dragging a cop out of gunfire, old aches kept coming back, and sometimes she wondered why she ever had become a cop. Those moments were few, but the distance between them wasn't getting any longer. It was hard to get out of bed, some mornings. Twenty-seven years old, her family said, and nothing to show for it but scars and cynicism.
Her cell phone rang, right on cue. Open, shut, start figuring out which drink belonged to which person. The Davis side of the family wasn't so bad, but her mother's relatives were entirely too interested in comparing contributions to the family tree. Carmen's prissy cousin Estela was winning by a landslide with her firstborn and last month's triplets.
"This is the point at which we make small talk, correct?" Starfire asked. "Perhaps the talk is not so small, but I am curious. Would you tell us why you came to this city, Raven?"
Carmen had told the Titans that all the feds' horses and all the feds' men hadn't been able to get a useful word from Raven. Even the most exasperated hadn't been that direct.
"Real estate," was all the demon said at first. She ate very carefully, but finished faster than anyone else. "This property is in a very good location. It made an excellent entry point to survey the world." It touched the truth at a few points, as the best lies did. "My father might have knocked over a few buildings, but that happens when one is his size."
"How'd you end up such a small fry?" Cyborg asked.
"I am unfamiliar with that expression."
"You're small," Beast Boy clarified.
Raven glared over her water. "No smaller than you."
"My dad wasn't twice the height of a skyscraper."
"Strength is not measured only in size."
"In which ways is strength measured, in your experience?" Starfire asked.
Carmen listened to the conversation, of course. Starfire's explanation of her planet was interesting. Raven listened more than she spoke- but she was listening. The occasional comments about Raven's life didn't give away state secrets, but Carmen could finally start getting a better idea about the girl. Criminal charges were not at all likely. The county prosecutor was still in charge of the case, since the feds had only made a little noise about terrorism. He had agreed to drop charges in return for information they needed.
She wrote Raven's profile in her mind while Starfire spoke about a ritualistic fight. Long, slightly wavy hair about four inches shy of her waist in a dark shade of gray or black. Skin that settled to very pale gray from a vibrant red. Very few scars, with a prominent mark on her upper left arm. Hand-made clothing, by the puckering at the top of the sleeveless black shirt and the skirt's uneven hem that fell in an angle just below the knee. Short, uneven nails that probably had been bitten. Precise pronunciation, with more emphasis on vocabulary than current idiom.
Carmen could have a better guess at height and weight later. The hardest to guess was age. Demons probably aged differently than humans, but she didn't have any standards to adjust her guess of between fourteen and eighteen.
"Control would not shift to you, upon the death of your father?" Starfire asked.
"I could claim it, but so could anyone else. The way to keep sovereignty is to make sure that all know that you are the strongest. Anyone who beats the ruler in a fight has the opportunity to take power," Raven said.
"That seems most disorganized."
"Most of the strong demons are approximately half my father's height. There have not been close challenges for centuries." Raven had known that not all water smelled of heat and sulfur. She hadn't realized just how different it would taste when the water was cleaned after emerging from the underground source.
"How big are most demons?" Cyborg asked.
"Approximately one quarter of my father's size, or half of your Tower."
"How many are your size?" Robin asked.
"I am."
"Most don't fight with mentally-based powers?" Carmen noted the return of the glare in her notes. She wouldn't remember all the specifics, but she knew almost enough to start predicting reactions.
"Most demons prefer brute force," Raven said. "It's simplest. There is little subtlety, and no sense of honor. There are no crowns, and the only law is that the strong survive."
Education, Carmen added to her list. Books, lessons- something.
"This is all you have known? It seems very strange, to me." Starfire knew of only one people who relied on strength to determine government. She had no pleasant memories of the Gordanians.
"Everything."
Carmen wondered if any of the Titans noticed the tiny pause before Raven's response. They were a sharp group, but that didn't mean they knew which details to watch.
The Teen Titans showed no sign of leaving. Robin, Cyborg, and Beast Boy let Starfire handle most of the talking, which Carmen appreciated. Starfire could ask questions that would earn anyone else a glare in the best case scenario and get an answer. Carmen knew little information that the prosecutor would want, but they would get to that in time. For now, small steps would do- steps like not having any fuss when suggesting dinner.
There shouldn't have been a problem. Someone in the station would get them dinner, she would sit back and let the younger folk talk, and later she would get another "I told you so" for the record. Eventually, she just might be rid of a partner who didn't know a DNA sequence chart from a polygraph.
Cyborg noticed that only Raven's napkin had a design. Raven spread the napkin on the table, smoothing out the paper.
"What is it?" Robin asked.
"This," she said, "is the mark of Scath."
"What does it mean?"
Carmen didn't like the look of the odd-looking S written in red permanent marker one bit, even before she saw traces of a smile.
"I'll have a decent lawyer soon."
Raven would say nothing else about the matter. She let Carman keep the sample, she was polite when she refused any sort of common, and didn't seem to notice when Carmen angled it for a camera.
An hour later, the Titans went home.
Two hours after that, Carmen, Sophie, Joe, and everyone else in the station couldn't find anything else.
The symbol was the mark of Scath, and Carmen still didn't like it.