The Warden in the Bad Place

MIDDLEMARCH SHOOK HIS head disapprovingly when the revolving doors started spinning at six in the morning. Only one person could be crazy enough to come this early to work, and just as expected, a diminutive blonde soon came walking inside the lobby.

"Last time I checked," Zari quipped, "I'm still alive." She could still feel Middlemarch glowering at her as she headed for the French doors and tried not to sigh. She got it, really. Even she knew eighty-hour work weeks weren't sustainable, and she'd be more than happy to take an extended leave of absence once her Master returned.

Zari dumped her trench coat on the library table and marched towards the shelves. B for Botany, Zari thought as she started browsing for titles. In moments, she had about twenty pounds worth of leatherbound textbooks in her arms and had given herself a good bicep workout by the time she got back to her table.

She flipped the first book open as soon as she was seated, skipped all the way to D, and her eyes widened. The devil's apples, according to the 17th century witch whose lessons she was now reading, were apparently another name for mandrakes, and contrary to what J.K. Rowling wanted everyone to believe, they were definitely not the kind of plant anyone would want growing in their Vegepods.

Mandrakes, like human bodies, may be male or female. And also just like mortal flesh, mandrakes may be turned into cocoons from which demons gradually build their strength until they are able to break into the human realm.

Zari nearly muttered out an expletive. She should've known, should've seen this coming miles away. Of course a demon had to be involved, and she had a feeling that things were just going to get worse from here if she didn't do something—-

The customized ring alert had Zari's lips tightening, and she momentarily pushed aside all thoughts of missing demons and dead bodies and started tapping all over her trench coat until she found which pocket had her phone. She had assigned that ringtone to the Board, and Zari's brows shot up when she clicked the message open.

Those rumors that Micah told her about must've been worse than Zari thought. It was unheard of for a Board member to speak directly to a trapper, and especially one like her who had only been with AGNEX for a little over a year.

On her way down to B3, a shuffling sound had Zari absently looking over her shoulder—-

Zari had her answer a moment later, with the ghost suddenly shooting towards her, and the hairs behind her neck stood up as Elsa's icy cold breath fanned her ear.

THE DIALOGUE ROOM WAS what trappers privately called the greatest misnomer in history, since dialogue rarely took place within its cold, damp walls. In reality, it was a dungeon-like chamber where trappers were "questioned" about their alleged violations and, if proven guilty, tortured accordingly.

Even though the agency's rulebook clearly stated that all she would get was a warning on her first invitation, Zari still had her guard up when she entered the chamber and saw the robed warden seated on the head of the table.

He appeared to be anywhere between his seventies and infinity, had cold, beady eyes, and a gauntness that was made all the more noticeable by the green veins running all over his too-pale skin.

She did as asked and took her seat at the foot of the table. "Thank you, warden."

"My superior has spoken to me about the Board's understandable concerns." Zari picked her words with care. "And I have, as suggested, applied for one of the paid cases—-"

"Then why is it," the warden asked, "were you still seen last night at the crime scene of your previous assignment?"

It was the one question that Zari hadn't been expecting, and she launched into an apology without hesitation. "I am very sorry, warden." Appeal to emotion was always a great time-stalling tactic, and Zari silently thanked her mentor for all those hours they had spent working on her poker face and making sure she was capable of lying to save her life (literally). "Micah did say I was to prioritize paid cases to show my loyalty to the agency." Pointless recounting was the next second best strategy, and by the end of it, Zari had found herself a plausible excuse.

"Absolutely, warden," Zari averred without blinking. "The only reason I've been working on pro bono cases is because I'm afraid to be a disappointment to the agency...and to myself. And with Warehouse 57 being my first big case..." She swallowed hard and made her voice tremble a little. "I simply wanted to be sure I had left no stone unturned."

"The grave has been emptied, trapper," the warden snapped. "Or are you saying there are more bodies to be found?"

Before Zari could decide between admitting the truth and uttering another lie, the building alarms suddenly went off, and both Zari and the warden were instantly on their feet. The red light flashing over and over could only mean AGNEX was under threat, but who the heck would be stupid enough to attack the agency in broad day—-

"TROUBLE AT L1," a slightly panicky voice declared over the PA system. "ALL TRAPPERS RESPOND. Threat identified as Alexandru Gheorgiu..."

She was running as fast as her legs could carry her, heart beating madly, just running and running while optically peeing like someone whose eye bladders had given up on her.

A couple of trappers tried blocking her way when she made it to the lobby, but she didn't even stop for a single second, just pulled her gun out and trained it on them. "Just fucking try," Zari snarled, "and I swear to God I'll shoot you."

No additional warning was needed, everyone smart enough to jump out of her way, and finally, finally, she was out of the building—-