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Escape of the Fae

Page 2

by Taylor Spratt


  She gave a hard swallow, her eyes unbelieving. “My, you’re an ambitious one aren’t you.”

  “Well, you know me, I’m a real overachiever,” I said sarcastically.

  “Says here two years ago you intentionally set loose a dozen donkeys to go charging through the Finnish Ambassador’s birthday party. It says you then used the ensuing chaos as cover to make off with his new limited-edition Ferrari?”

  “Since when do bear shifters have three birthdays a year? I mean come on. He has one of those stinking birthday parties every time he gets a new car. And honestly, if he was planning to keep it, he shouldn’t have bought such a pretty color. I mean fuchsia?” I shrugged, throwing my head back with my eyes wide open. “A saint would have lifted it.”

  “Uh huh,” was all she replied, seeming less than impressed with my excuse. She flipped to the next page, read it and shot her eyes back up at me. “And what about that brawl you started at Lady Penelope’s Spring Cotillion with the Elephant shifter? The one where you…”

  “Wait! please! Please let me tell that one,” I said hopping from one foot to the other with excitement, while waving my hand in the air like a schoolgirl begging to answer the teacher’s question.

  Her expression soured as she shot me a defeated look. “Yes, go on.” She rolled her hand in front of me and I shot her a bright grin. I just loved telling this story.

  “It was six months ago. A red tie affair. I was about to eat the last slice of strawberry shortcake. It had the cutest little strawberry on top. My mouth was practically watering from the smell of sweet sugar. When out of nowhere, some arrogant douche of a guy waltzes over saying he calls dibs on my slice of cake. I mean can you believe the nerve? I then told him I’d give him a big slice, one right in the forehead, if he didn’t back the hell away from my cake. I mean, who calls dibs on someone else’s piece of cake?”

  The whole thing was just crazy.

  “And what did he say to that?” She sighed, her head drooping clearly not amused by my story time.

  “Nothing. He just shifted and sat his big elephant ass on top of me. All the guests were screaming, horrified at the sight.”

  “When he sat on you?”

  I raised my fist in the air in a show of might.

  “No, when I blew him sky high with my elemental flame magic. Sucker flew for miles and then I ate the cake in one big cheerful bite.” I snorted out with a big excited smile, but she didn’t spare so much as a chuckle.

  Tough crowd. I thought that was pretty funny and she didn’t even laugh.

  “You do realize this isn’t one of your little back alleys, right? This is Pembroke Penitentiary, you won’t be causing any shit in here for me to clean up and you certainly won’t be blowing anyone sky high!” She was so forceful with her words that the bass of her own voice startled her snakes. They slithered and shook upward like an inside out umbrella.

  Her eyes flared open in surprise, and she tucked the file under her arm.

  “Shh, shh, babies, mommy’s sorry for yelling. Shhhh. Calm down now, this scary, mean awful girl will soon go away, okay?” she cooed, petting her snakes. It was as if she thought they were puppies instead of venomous creatures of the darkness.

  “Cute little, babies you’ve got there,” I said eyeing the slithering little creatures as one of them took a snap in my direction before falling into its mother’s sweet caress.

  This woman’s power was off the charts. Every magical had the innate ability to sense the power of another. It was like a magical sixth sense, all you had to do was feel for a signature and you would instantly know another’s power class.

  Those pathetic prison guards couldn’t have been better than ‘C’ class magicals at best. But this woman was an ‘A’ class pure and simple. She boasted a power level close to my own, not as strong, but closer than I’d like.

  It didn’t matter much though. She could be an ‘A’ class ancient for all I cared. The minute I found Michael, I’d be waltzing our asses right out the front door.

  “Normally I wouldn’t bother casting judgment on you misfits, but for you Sixty-six, I think I’ll make an exception.” She slapped my file closed and threw it back into the cabinet before slamming it.

  “You’re magical filth,” she stated bluntly with her brows drawn high in condescension. “A disgrace to your kind and all of Dominion. You deserve to rot in the grungiest, filthiest cell, filled with the biggest and scariest murderers fresh from the insane asylum.”

  “Do you have any with long hair?” I chirped with my hands clasped in a prayer. “I’m a sucker for a man with long hair. Wouldn’t mind if he had big muscular arms too. You can give me two of those… No, make it three. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?” I outstretched my hand in her direction.

  Her brow twitched in annoyance, the side of her mouth twisting into a snarl and I had to try my best to hide the laugh now bubbling up inside me.

  I really was a sucker for men with long hair. But more than anything it was just fun messing with this grouch.

  “And that brother of yours, Michael Gilcrest,” she stated in an icy voice.

  I schooled my expression, my face blank except for the twitching of my brow. This bitch had better tread lightly. Nobody insults my brother.

  “You know my brother?” I asked calmly.

  “Damn right I do. His record’s just as ugly as yours. I can’t wait to watch the two of you rot till the end of days.” She flung her arm in the air and shot me a scornful look.

  A moment passed, and there was complete silence, but the air was electrified with animosity.

  “You can say whatever the hell you want about me,” I bit out. My fists were clenched tight at my sides. “Call me a psycho, or you can even call me a deranged immoral criminal. But nobody, and I mean nobody, talks shit about my little brother.”

  With each word I could feel my eyes filling with rage. Every muscle in my body twitched, almost vibrating with anger.

  “Uh, huh? And just what do you plan to do about it?” She raised a brow and gave a contemptuous chuckle, curling the edge of her lip upward. “In here I’m the boss bitch and if you don’t like it, you can go right to he-”

  She didn’t finish her sentence when I balled my fist tight, drew it back, and clocked her in the jaw, sending her flying back and crashing into her desk. Papers went flying about, cascading to the floor like a snow flurry.

  “Well, I guess I plan to do that,” I said clasping both hands in front of me innocently, glancing down at where she laid scattered on the floor by her desk. My cheerful expression met her murderous one.

  “You’ll pay for that, Sixty-six,” she shilled out, stumbling to her feet and wiping a few drops of blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. Her snakes raged murderously, their teeth bared like tiny toothpicks ready to defend their mommy.

  “Mistress Blackwell, do you need help?” a voice chimed outside, the prison guards were all too ready to barge in here and teach me a lesson.

  I’d like to see them try. I’ve been itching for a fight all day and I’d hate it if my first fight in over a week ended before I had any real fun. Besides, she had it coming for insulting my brother.

  “Stay the hell outside. This bitch is mine,” she yelled at the door and without warning she came at me, her neon green eyes piercing into mine. I averted my gaze at the last second, preventing her from turning me to stone.

  She released a screech of annoyance and then I felt her long fingernails tear into my blouse. She flung me to the floor and my back hit the ground hard. Throwing herself at me she pinned me to the ground under her body trying desperately to look me in the eyes. I shook my head in every direction, always keeping my gaze off her eyes.

  I slipped out from under her, using my legs as leverage. She fell into a crouching position and I maneuvered my leg to land the kick of the century right into her hip.

  She howled in pain and scowled at me. I smirked back at her, standing up and shifting to the balls of my feet.
I then cupped my fists, readying for her next attack.

  “Come on, is that all you’ve got? Is it really? Aren’t you the big bad warden?” I said cutely, puckering my lips to her visible displeasure.

  She stormed towards me; her snakes now wiggling wildly on her shoulders, a sign of distress and peaking rage. One punch after the next came flying at my face, chest and hip areas. I dodged them all with the stealth and form I’d perfected in my years of practice as an underground cage fighter.

  In my time I’d gone up against panther shifters, harpies, giants and even a few rough and tough incubi, just to name a few. All went down by my hands. As alpha of the mighty Gilcrest pack, they expected me to win at all costs. Where I came from, only the strongest survived and surviving was what I did best.

  I landed an upper cut square into her jaw and she grunted on impact. Before she could return the blow, I delivered three powerful jabs. One in her belly and two in her chest. My heart roared, sweat coursing down my face.

  What a rush. There was no feeling in all of Dominion greater than the thrill of the fight, no high more spectacular than being in the ring, where the only thing between you and death was the power of your own two hands.

  The warden, seeming to be one kick to the gut from a knockout, sprang for me, grabbed me by the face, and tried with all her might to direct my eyes to hers.

  “Hey now, that’s cheating!” I declared, closing my eyes before they could meet hers.

  Without opening a lid, I delivered my famous scorpion sting punch combo. Three punches in the gut, one in the face, all topped off with a kick to the shin.

  Or at least that’s where I planned to hit her, I may have felt boob on that last punch. My bad. My eyes peeked open to find the warden on the floor. Her back was turned and she was crawling away like a wounded animal. Her eyes shot to the door with desperation accentuating her every blink.

  “Rocky, Morris! Get the hell in here and restrain the prisoner,” she gasped out, pain lacing her voice.

  Well someone’s a sore loser.

  The door exploded off its hinges. Dummy one and two glanced down at the injured warden than back up at me. Their mouths twisted with anger and they came stampeding towards me like two buffalos in flight, lightning rods at the ready.

  “Now, now, boys! Violence is never the answer. Didn’t your mother teach you to talk through your disagreements?” I raised my hands, waving them in an attempt to calm the guards, but it was too late, way too fucking late as the two men swarmed me like bees to a beehive. And without a word, they both set the ends of their batons to my belly.

  When they pressed the buttons, three thousand volts of pure electricity came shooting out the tip like a volcanic eruption.

  “Son of a—oh my God!” I howled as pain charged through my body like a speeding train through a concrete wall.

  I crashed to the ground like a sack of potatoes, too stunned to move an inch. My skin hurt, my bones burnt, even my damn hair hurt.

  “Not so mighty now, are we?” the warden said, smiling triumphantly with her arms folded as she glanced down at me appraisingly. “Just look at where your disobedience has gotten you. You may have landed a few punches; I’ll give you that. But you were never any match for me. You know that, right?”

  She had a bloody nose, two black eyes forming and an entire bottle of concealer worth of gashes and bruises on her cheeks and neck.

  “Really now?” I choked out, slowly scraping myself off the floor as the prison guards hovered over me like flies. “Because from where I’m standing, you look like you were just on the ass end of an ass kicking.”

  She shot me an agitated smile before saying, “Rocky?”

  “Yes madam,” Dummy two responded while elbowing me in the gut. I staggered back releasing a cough.

  “Hey, bozo,” I warned, raising a finger at him, “You get one of those, but one more and I’ll get mad. You won’t like me when I’m mad.”

  “Oh yeah? Little fae bitch? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got,” he threatened.

  Interrupting us, the hum of an intercom rent the air. I searched the room to see that the warden had moved over to the window. With her back to me and her front facing the window she held a wireless microphone between her boney little fingers. She then clapped her hands twice. Just then the big glass window automatically opened like a garage door.

  I took a step closer to the window and my eyes widened at the sight of the prison complex. We had to be pretty high up, as about thirty feet below us was an open concept cafeteria area filled with what looked to be at least eight hundred prisoners sitting down and eating.

  “Good afternoon everyone,” the warden said, her arms going wide in the air as it drew their attention. All eyes shot up from their dinner trays to meet her. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your dinner tonight. What do you guys say about a little dessert to go with your spaghetti?”

  If there was one thing my beta Nabiri always said, it was, ‘never get between Jessy and her sugar.’ I will hurt you. But something told me I wouldn’t be enjoying this dessert of hers any time soon.

  Almost all eyes were on her, with a few trailing over to me as if they already knew I caused their warden’s black eye and smeared lip-stick.

  With satisfaction dripping from her every word, she jabbed her scrawny index finger in my direction and said, “You see this fae beside me? Her name is Jessica Gilcrest and she’s been a very naughty fae. So why don’t we play a little game with her, shall we?”

  A chorus of cheers erupted from the crowd below, excitement beaming off their faces as if she had them at ‘naughty fae.’

  “Whoever can bring me this bitch’s head on a pike gets to walk out the front door free and clear. So, who’s ready to play?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jessy

  They told me I have a little impulse control problem, that if someone just looks at me funny, I’d break their arm first and ask questions later. But truth be told, that was not my style. I was as sweet as cherry pie… normally. Mess with me, you might leave with a few scratches but mess with someone I love, and you’ll leave in a body bag.

  As I walked the halls of Pembroke Penitentiary, I couldn’t help but wonder something.

  If I was going to get Michael out of here sooner rather than later, maybe I shouldn’t have kicked the warden’s ass… I mean breaking out of a supernatural prison would be hard enough. But with a price on my head? This spelt trouble and a ton of it.

  “Ready to meet your fellow inmates, Sixty-six?” Dummy one said as the other two prison guards trailed along behind us, thunder rods at the ready. They were taking me to wherever they kept the prisoners and hopefully right to Michael.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Grey walls and black tile floor stretched down ahead for what seemed like a mile. Oddly enough, golden chandeliers lined the ceiling all the way down like some weird aristo-grunge mashup. Each had a hundred little lights washing the hallway in an orange glow. And of course, it just wouldn’t be Pembroke without the milky magic killing mists spilling out the vents that trailed along the top of the walls like train tracks.

  Up ahead, windows lined the left side of the walls all the way down. Moonlight flooded in and I was treated to one hell of a sky show as I peered through the glass.

  Soul Eaters scoured through the skies like ghostly spirits of death. Picture Casper the ghost, but red as blood with a mid-night black tail. They were about ten feet tall with shark teeth and talon like claws the length of daggers. Long story short, they were a whole lotta scary with a side dish of mean as hell. They were almost impossible to kill, and just one graze of their ghoulish forms over your skin and your soul would be wrenched clean out of your body. I knew from before my arrest that they used these things as protection here. But they were a lot scarier than I thought they’d be.

  My eyes left the window, and I bit my lower lip, scrutinizing every wall around me, paying extra attention to each curve and crack that scarred their cold
, hard surfaces.

  Despite the chandeliers, this place was a total shithole. I mean, not one but two dozen dead cockroaches littered the last ten feet of the floor. But there was something odd about this place. I couldn’t put my finger on it. There was something familiar about it, as if maybe I’d been here once before. I had no recollection of ever being here. So, how was that even possible?

  A high pitch cackle erupted from up ahead and my eyes shot to the source of the noise.

  Hyena shifters huh? There were three of them, all in human form. They each had a broom in hand that they used to sweep the floor with. They all did that weird high-pitched laughing sound their kind makes as we approached.

  Their eyes fell on me as I approached surrounded by guards. They all snarled and glared at me. Oh yeah, they heard Blackwater’s little game announcement alright. That was obvious by the way they all eyed me as if they could imagine tearing me limb from limb.

  I shot them a glare of my own and they stumbled backward, their eyes widening in shock as reality struck. Brows drawn in fear, their lips falling silent as death, they just stood watching me as I passed. I didn’t expect any less.

  Even with the poison blocking my powers, they could still feel my alpha essence. That was something that nothing could ever wash away. Not even all the poison in the world. A power signature was like DNA to magicals, and everyone knew that us ‘A’ classes were in a league of our own, a breed not to be messed with.

  The hallway ended and Dummy two shoved a pair of double doors to the left open. The smell of bland, carelessly prepared foods filled the air. The hustle and bustle of prisoners chatting, and the clatter of forks and knives scrapping over trays reigned supreme.

  I took a step toward the door and peered inside.

  This was the cafeteria. The same one that Blackwater made her announcement over. Great. Was I going to have to kick ass so soon?

  All sound cut as if by the flip of a switch. Hundreds of pairs of eyes laid hard on me then. The weaker magicals eyed me with fear and apprehension but the stronger ones, they eyed me through gritted teeth looking ready to eat me alive.

 

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