5.

When Montgomery came to get me in the morning I was ready. I put my wrists forward for the handcuffs.

"I don't think we need to bother with those," he muttered, looking a little embarrassed. Mind games were not his way then. Whilst my opinion of him as a human grew, my opinion of him as a Seeker plummeted.

I waited til we were half way back to the interview room, amongst an archipelago of desks. It was early yet and few Seekers were at work, leaving dozens of screens unattended. All connected directly to the Seeker database. My mouth wetted at the thought.

"I want breakfast first," I said, stopping. Montgomery turned slowly. "I'm not going into the interview room without breakfast."

"You've got to be kidding."

"It's a fundametal human right," I said seriously, "There's a vending machine over there. A nut bar will be satisfactory. No dried fruit. And not the yoghurt topped ones." I held out my wrists and he sighed, handcuffing me to the desk and mooching over to the machine, his back turned. My opinion of him fell even lower, but I wasted no time, attacking the keyboard silently.

Seeker database. Address. My fingers stabbed awkwardly because of the cuffs. But it came through: Comforter Constant Green and Seeker Follows Echoes. I looked up his file. Beretta. It was his gun. She had his gun. She had taken his gun? He had lodged a missing weapon report, yesterday, and taken out a Glock temporarily. That was the Glock and Beretta then.

They were similar looking guns. But a Glock has an internal safety. In the trigger. So you can just point and shoot. In a Beretta it's mounted on the body of the gun, on the slide. You have to manually disengage it before you can shoot. If you were used to using a Beretta, you might not know about the internal safety mechanism of a Glock.

Could there have been some kind of accident? Why had she taken his gun? Self defence? Surely not with plans to use it. Even for a highly stressed, mentally unstable Soul that was unlikely. Was she afraid I would come for her? And where was her mate, Follows Echoes?

"Hey!" Montgomery dropped my non-yoghurt, fruit free nut bar and swiveled me away from the keyboard. But I had enough.

"Where's Follows Echoes? She was shot with his gun, wasn't she? The Glock he had picked up that day-"

"You are not allowed to be in there, that is private information."

"I'm still a Seeker last time I checked. I have authorization."

"You are under investigation – bloody hell, you know what I mean."

"There is no evidence linking me or my family with the murder weapon, you've got no reason to hold me."

"Ah, you were found at the scene of the crime covered in the vic's blood?"

"Yeah, because I called it in. You really think I'd hang around if I'd killed her?"

"I don't know what you'd do."

"For God's sake we have alibis!"

"Your alibi has fled the country. Tell us where he is and maybe he'll back you up."

"The GPS-"

"The GPS says where your car was. Anybody could have been driving it."

"My prints and Bhask's prints will be on the steering wheel."

"Look, you really don't need to concern yourself with these details. That's not your job here-"

"Well excuse me for being a little concerned, but you seem to be trying to stitch me up for murder!"

"That is a very serious allegation. We are just trying to do our jobs."

"Tell me where is Follows Echoes!"

"I'm right here."

I spun around and saw a man whose face was drawn with grief, whose eyes burned at the sight of me. He had lost his mate last night. I couldn't begin to think how he was coping.

"I'm sorry. I-"

"Perhaps we could continue this in the actual interview room?" he said, and I followed meekly behind as soon as Montgomery freed me from the desk. Follows Echoes shut the door firmly, leant on it for a while, then slowly sat in front of me. Montgomery sat in the corner, watching. I waited, motionless with trepidation.

"From everything I've read about you. Seeker reports. Healer reports. Comforter reports. I get the same message. Belligerent," Follows Echoes said quietly, speaking slowly and deliberately, avoiding my gaze.

My mouth fell open, but I shut it again. It was probably fair enough, for all that it stung.

"You always get your man, you always get your way. You never give up. A formidable opponent." He looked up and met my eyes: I saw a deep hatred sunk in a fire of anger and grief. It took me a minute to be able to reply.

"I didn't kill her," I said firmly, but quietly.

"Do you have any idea how much she was afraid of you?"

"I never threatened her. I never-"

"Your reputation preceded you. She couldn't sleep, she couldn't concentrate on anything…"

"I'm sorry if she was suffering-"

"She is dead because of you."

"I didn't kill her-"

"No, but she is dead because of you all the same." He kept his voice controlled but the intensity of his emotion burned me. I was stunned and didn't even look up when Jackson barged in.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You are not supposed to be anywhere near this investigation! Get out!"

Follows Echoes made to argue but Jackson was having none of it.

"Now!"

Follows Echoes stalked out of the room in silent fury.

"Go home!" Jackson shouted out the door before he shut it.

"What did he say, Gomez," Jackson muttered to Montgomery, clutching the back of a chair with his back to me, getting his temper under control.

"He said I killed her," I whispered, "he said she was afraid of me…" She had come home from the chaos of the court, where I had tried to get to her, knowing that the madness would go on, the investigations, the media, she had come home and found the Glock, grabbing it as protection against me, the demon-seeker that she had wrongfully put through hell. If she had picked it up, thinking it was the Beretta, thinking the safety was on, or not thinking at all, agitated, gesticulating, if she had squeezed the trigger past the safety…

"Fuck," Jackson said, and I realized they had been talking to me while I stared at the wall, lost in thought.

"Get her to the Healer Centre, she's fucking traumatised or something."

Follows Echoes must have been home. He must have seen what happened. Or heard at least. But there was no sign of him when I got there. Had he just left? Just walked off into the night? Leaving her there, dying? He was a Seeker, he was trained to respond to such situations… but I knew, when it came to loved ones, there was no telling what you would do. I would never have guessed that I would have hit Alex when they told me they took Ayasha away. Training, logic, thought, everything went out the window.

The Seeker van pulled up in front of the Healing Centre and the door to the prisoner's compartment opened. I stayed put.

"I don't want to be here."

"We just need to get you checked out," Montgomery said evenly, as if it were totally rational to walk into a Healing Centre. But I knew that once inside the Healing system, especially for suspicion of metal impairment, it was very hard to get out. I knew it personally. I had spent enough of my life in that building, and I was damned if I was going in there again for this.

"I don't want to go in there. I want to go home."

"Don't make us do this the hard way, Hungry Flame."

"You can't make me go in there. I have the right to refuse medical attention."

"If you are mentally competent, sure. You've just been staring at the wall like a zombie for the last half hour. I think that gives us adequate cause."

"Then let's do this the hard way." I steeled myself against the furthest corner of the truck.

Montgomery swore and clasped his hands on top of his head, accentuating his paunch. I was betting he hadn't attended self-defense classes in a while.

"Take me home. I want to see Alex."

He let out a long slow breath, thinking, watching the early morning traffic start to build. Then he flipped out his mobile and tossed it to me.

"Call him."

I wasted no time.

"Alex?"

"Flame! Where are you? Don't you dare hang up!"

"They've taken me to the Healing Centre. I'm not going in there. They said I killed her. They said-"

"Who, the Seekers? Alright, hang in there, I'm coming-"

"Let me have a word?" Montgomery said, hand outstretched, and I obediently tossed him the phone.

"Mr Flynt? We have a bit of a situation on our hands here. Hungry Flame is refusing to get out of the truck. We have serious concerns for her mental health, and she is leaving us with no choice but to use force on her. If you could possibly… Ah, I see... Yes, we've noticed. I believe 'belligerent' was the term used... Sorry, forget about it… Well, we'll wait for your arrival then. Thank you, Mr Flynt."

"He's coming?"

"He's on his way. I believe I could charge him with driving while talking on a mobile, if I were particular." He noted the look on my face and relented. "I'm not particular."

We waited, watching each other across the length of the prisoner's compartment, neither daring to relax.

Finally Alex's car pulled in and he went to jump into the compartment.

"No! Wait, they'll trap you in here!" I said, my voice tight with fear.

"We're feeling a little paranoid today," Montgomery explained as Alex stepped back out and stood at the doorway. Alex ignored him.

"Then come out here, Flame."

I edged towards the doors, keeping my eyes on his.

"I'm not going in there."

"I know."

"You won't let them take me."

"You know I won't."

Montgomery's phone rang as Alex pulled me the last few steps out of the truck and held me tight.

"She's refusing medical attention. She says she wants to go home." Montgomery was saying, "I really don't like our chances of getting her in there, not without some serious physical injuries."

"Flame," Alex growled softly, "what have you been up to?"

"Alright, I'll meet you there," Montgomery said hanging up, "I've got permission to take you home for the moment."

"My car or yours?" Alex asked. Montgomery sighed like he'd had enough of the day already.