"Bring her," he said. "She's perfect."
The soldier with the cattle prod said something to the seer in a language I'd never heard, punctuated by what sounded like clicks. When the seer shook her head adamantly, her eyes wide, the man in the armor switched to English.
"We can do this the hard way," he warned the seer. "Is that what you want?"
"I, I don't understand..." the seer on the ground said.
Her accent seemed to worsen, and I winced at the fear I heard in her voice. She sounded almost Asian, but not Thai, like Cass' dad or her uncles, which was about the only Asian accent I knew well enough to definitively cross off the list. She seemed to be in shock, speaking words even as she looked up at the three men, trying to make sense of them.
"...I was sent on an errand by my mistress," she stammered. "I never deviated from her stated request. If I do not return within a reasonable timeframe, she will be concerned for me. I am not regularly outside of our dwelling..."
The man kicked the woman again. The seer cried out, holding her hands higher, in a kind of supplication that felt almost formal.
"I swear it! I do not know what you want from me!"
"Don't give me that shit," the man with the electric rod said. "We know exactly what you are to your 'mistress,' ice blood...and we know why she doesn't let you out of doors..."
Soldier guy nodded to the man in the expensive-looking suit, who handed the punky-looking Russian a set of handcuffs. The Russian bent over her back, forcing her wrists behind her and cinching them tightly enough that the seer whimpered.
All of us in the crowd just stood there. No one intervened.
Including us.
Including the cop, who was now speaking into his shoulder radio.
"Is this legal?" I asked Jon. "How can they do this, on the street like this?"
Jon only shrugged, but his eyes glimmered with anger.
He hated anybody who picked on the little guy. Even if the little guy happened to have super-human powers and stood a few good inches taller than him, on average. I was still trying to decide if I should say something, or maybe try talking to the cop, when the one in the suit looked over at us suddenly. His eyes met mine once more.
"You be careful now, honey." He smiled.
I didn't like his smile. I didn't like him calling me honey, either.
"...We're here to protect you, you know," he added, still smiling.
I couldn't think of a reply that wouldn't get me arrested, but my mind was churning. Were these guys legit? Or were they stealing seers, maybe to resell on the black market? It might explain why the cop just stood there, if he was in on the take. Would they really do that in broad daylight, though? Right in front of the main entrance to Central Park? Were people really that apathetic, that they could get away with that, without anyone calling it in?