Free Illusive by Emily Lloyd-Jones

deals you feds make.”
    Aristeus doesn’t so much as blink. “If you tell us everything about your job,” he says, “I’ll unlock that door and give you an hour.” He leans forward. “Exactly one hour before I report your escape.”
    It’s a lie. It has to be. No fed would simply let Daniel walk out of here.
    Carson makes a noise—it sounds like a curse has caught in his throat. “What—
no!
You don’t have that kind of authority—”
    “Actually,” Aristeus says coldly, “I do.”
    Carson’s heavy jaw bulges as he grinds his teeth. “The UAI can’t—” He is cut off by his partner, who seizes his arm and squeezes. It’s a silent warning.
    The UAI woman, Morana, straightens. Her posture is deceptively loose and relaxed, but the facade is wasted on Daniel. A dauthus could take down these two in a matter of seconds.
    Aristeus raises a palm to Morana, and she slouches back against the wall. “Do not tell me what the UAI can and cannot do,” Aristeus says. “We hold as much authority as the federal bureau.”
    “Don’t kid yourself, Agent,” Carson says. The last word is tangled up with a bitter laugh. “You’ve got as much authority as the president gives you. He’s enamored with what you freaks can do for him.” Gervais moves to grab at Carson again, but Carson steps out of his reach. “The moment we get someone sane in office, you and your agency will be the first ones rounded up and—”
    Aristeus turns on Carson and his words drop to a low hiss.
“Shut up.”
Something in his voice changes. Daniel hears it,
hears
it, the way normal people can’t. That voice is poison,cold and creeping—a silent hand that reaches and chokes the voice out of Carson.
    Carson’s mouth clamps shut and he staggers backward. Daniel can’t see Aristeus’s expression but it must be something to behold, because the look on Carson’s face is close to panic.
    Together, Gervais and Carson take several more steps backward, until they are—literally—backed into a corner. Gervais moves in front of Carson, and there is nothing subtle about the way his hand rests on the gun at his belt.
    Aristeus simply turns away, as if the two agents are no longer worthy of his attention. “Damn FBI,” he mutters.
    Morana speaks up. “I think they’re cute,” she says, as if Gervais and Carson have gone deaf as well as mute.
    “You would.” Aristeus hooks a finger through the knot of his tie and loosens it, trying to gather himself. He returns to the seat across from Daniel. “Now,” he says, “where were we?”
    “You were making him a deal,” Morana says.
    “Ah, right. The deal.” Aristeus folds his hand on the table. “Mr. Burkhart, I am not like those agents,” he nods to the corner, “who would lock you away until you rot. You’ve made them look incompetent. Of course, they’re part of the Adverse Effects Division, so they should be used to that sort of thing.”
    Daniel smiles.
    Aristeus continues, “To them, you’re just a criminaleludere. They know what that means intellectually, of course, but they’ve never experienced adverse effects themselves. That’s why you were able to escape. As much as the FBI thinks they can deal with our kind, they can’t.”
    “Our kind?” Daniel scoffs, but it’s a bluff. If this Aristeus is with the UAI, it’s certain. He’s immune, too.
    Aristeus looks as if he knows what Daniel is thinking. “We’re all equals here. We’re all on the same side. Please.” He leans forward, his expression surprisingly earnest. His voice goes low, pleading,
reasonable
—that’s the word Daniel settles on. It’s disarming how
reasonable
this man is, with his dark eyes and youthful face. He’s not much older than Daniel—probably in his mid-twenties.
    “You think I’m that naive?” Daniel says. “That I’m going to give up any leverage I have for a deal I know you won’t honor?”
    Daniel catches the flicker of unhappiness in Aristeus’s eyes, and he barks out a