Mortal Scream (Harbingers of Death Book 1)

by LeAnn Mason

  This young woman—Aria—would be a valuable asset to his team and their mission of ferrying souls to Duat.

  The beautiful, pale-faced woman didn’t have a clue what she was. That was obvious. She needed to learn about her gifts. She needed to get a handle on them, not just to be of use to him but for her own survival. Her arrival in the human penal system showed as much, yet she seemed to have good instincts. A conundrum.

  It was clear she knew something was different about him. He’d watched as her light eyes had flitted around his body, watching as he played with the shadows. And Cole—she knew enough to be wary of him, reluctant to get too close and never taking her eyes from him. Yet, she didn’t seem cowed. In contrast, the otherness seemed to bolster her confidence.

  Yes, she would be a fine asset to his team… once she was properly trained.

  Until then, she was a liability as shown with her current predicament. Fifteen years in a human prison. He couldn’t imagine being locked down, under surveillance, for even a minuscule fraction of that time. His body shuddered at the thought.

  The metal door to this cage clanked open, pulling his attention. Cole fit through the opening and closed the barrier firmly behind him before stalking silently forward, a useful talent the hellhound possessed, to face Seke.

  “Well? Am I right?” he asked without preamble. Directness was a trait Seke could always count on Cole to deliver.

  “Mmm, seems that you are, my friend,” Seke responded silkily, his accent clipping the words slightly. “Make sure you approach her quietly, somewhere where a little… show and tell might help push your words. Let me know how it goes. Then we will proceed. Michaels, yes?”

  “Yes, sir,” Cole responded quickly, no need to elaborate. They were used to speaking in a sort of shorthand, a way that didn’t give away the true nature of their words.

  “Good, good.” Seke nodded, reaching to grip Cole’s shoulder fondly before passing his enforcer and keeping up the illusion of human rules of these concrete death traps they frequented.

  Little did the humans know just what his purpose was, how little control their feeble kind actually possessed. He allowed them their delusions, fully aware of his—and his team’s—superiority.

  They were the Harbingers of Death, and he, a god.

  13

  The shaking of the bedframe stirred me awake, and I sat up in a panicked rush, nearly colliding with the ceiling. Someone had helpfully planted a pillow over my face, preventing what would have caused pain and left a radiant shiner. Best to avoid being labeled as a punching bag—Raven’s punching bag.

  Realizing there wasn’t an earthquake when the jostling ceased, I flopped back down to discover a second pillow beneath my head. I plucked the additional doughy rectangle from where it fell on my lap, realizing it must belong to my bunkmate. Was I screaming again? I couldn’t recall a dream. I wasn’t even sure I’d been asleep long enough to hit the dreaming stage of a REM cycle.

  Something bumped my ass through the mattress as if I was the princess and the pea. This ‘pea,’ I was fairly certain, was the foot of a cold-hearted bitch of a roomie.

  Annoyed, I snapped, “What? Was I screaming again? Keeping you from your beauty sleep?”

  There hadn’t been a lesson from my parents on poking a bear—a psychotic one—with a stick. That one was common sense. I recalled the last time the pillow had been on my face.

  If the bear had murderous intent anyway, did it help to try to appear nonplussed, maybe bigger than it?

  Some princess, being accosted by the very people I shared my sleep quarters with. The zipped-up lawyer from earlier came to mind. I’d be okay sharing tight sleeping quarters with him.

  Another kick came from below.

  Yep, he would be much preferred over my current situation.

  The worst thing you can possibly do when scoping out a dangerous situation is to stick your face in first.

  Blah-blah, prepared enemy can destroy your senses and put you at a disadvantage if not outright kill you blah. Well, Dad. My prison cell was fresh out of handy utensils like handheld mirrors to scope out a new area.

  I decided to send out a decoy instead. The pillow could play victim if Raven was trying to lure me into some kind of a death trap. After all, it had been used against me once—or maybe twice if that was tonight’s intent—and I had no qualms with the bitch accidentally destroying her own source of comfort.

  I jostled around to give the impression that I was getting ready to descend, then without ado, dropped the pillow down toward the bed beneath.

  It didn’t hit the ground. Something struck out, altering its trajectory mid-descent, and it soared in a pale streak of white across the darkened cell. There was a splash as it landed in the toilet.

  I withheld a giggle as a growl emanated from the bunk below me. Bear, poked.

  “Really? A pillow fight? How stereotypical can the women’s ward get?”

  I nearly fell off the top bunk at the sound of CO Cole’s dark voice and did crack my head against the ceiling this time.

  Blinking away the bright bursts of color that flecked my vision and rubbing what was sure to be a lump on my forehead, I swiveled onto my stomach to peer over the end of the bed toward the iron gate that permitted the guard’s peeping. “Can the women’s ward not get any privacy from the spying of indecent men?”

  Raven made a noise below me that sounded something like a laugh, and the light amber of Cole’s eyes dipped to her for a moment, conveying displeasure. When he looked back at me, I wished it were Seke’s eyes staring at me indecently. His expressions had been interested in and almost… proud of me—pleased to be spending time in my presence. What a novel idea.

  Cole’s held nothing but annoyance and slight disgust as if he wanted to talk to me as much as Raven probably wanted to fetch her headrest from our waste system. That said, my feelings about the two men I’d come into contact with over the last day were mutual, respectively.

  “Are you going to get out of bed, cupcake? Or did you want your beauty sleep?” Cole’s regurgitated words proved he’d been listening to my threats, which meant he’d been there a while. Raven had been trying to get my attention on his behalf.

  “That depends,” I replied without budging, eyes squinting at the unwelcome night visitor. “Why do I need to get out of bed?”

  His teeth were bright against his cocoa skin. “It’s a surprise.”

  Surprises were not a good thing in my parents’ teachings. I suspected that in a prison, a ‘surprise’ had an even worse connotation.

  “I’m good. Thanks. Raven can keep the prize all to herself, no need to share with me.”

  “Raven isn’t coming,” Cole corrected. The key clanked, sliding into the lock before the grating of the wheeled door slid open. “Come out, come out, before I come in and get you. I have no issues with carrying you if I have to, Cupcake.”

  That got me moving. I dropped my pillow first, and when Raven didn’t send it flying, lowered myself down beside her and onto the floor. Her dark eyes looked more like black pits in the dismal lighting when they met mine from her prone position on the bed. Her smile wasn’t very friendly. Shocker. “Have fun.”

  I blinked. Was that the first time she’d spoken to me in our cell? Did she know where I was going? Was this a fresh-meat thing?

  Turning to Cole with suspicion, I asked, “Is this surprise sanctioned? I mean, did you get orders to come get me, or is this just some sick game you like to play on newbies? Because I have a new lawyer, and I don’t think he’ll like any mistreatment in my remaining time here.” I was somewhat bluffing. As competent as my new lawyer had seemed, I wasn’t convinced he’d get me exonerated… at least not anytime soon. “Wait, am I being let out?” It was a futile hope that overtook me momentarily.

  If I knew anything about governmental systems, it was that they were quick to punish and slow to apologize, especially with alleged murderers. I wondered, for the umpteenth time, what the new evidence was that Seke
thought he could use to get me out of my sentence. Maybe they’d found the mugger and he’d confessed to stabbing that guy in the alley? Seemed unlikely. That would be too perfect. No murderer was that altruistic. Hence, my skepticism at the possibility of impending freedom.

  “Don’t worry, princess.” Did I say that princess and the pea analogy out loud? “I’ve got direct orders. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  He put one boot into the cell, and I debated resisting just to see if he’d do as threatened and come scoop me up. I also debated grabbing the piss-pillow as defense. Raven’s evil foot popped out to shove me in the ass, sending me stumbling into Cole.

  I whirled to glare at her.

  “I think this is a mistake,” she said, creepiness abounding.

  “Orders,” Cole repeated, and I realized Raven hadn’t been speaking to me.

  My stomach dropped. “Wait a minute. Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere private.” Cole hitched a large palm around my upper arm to drag me down the hall. I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder at Raven in alarm. My stalwart and cold roomie seemed… worried. That couldn’t be good. “Time for some show and tell.”

  Show and tell? “Like karaoke or tap dancing?” I hedged with false brightness.

  Cole’s laugh was pure evil villain.

  That really couldn’t be good. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what talents this man and his utility belt had for a defenseless inmate like me. In the dead of night ... without any witnesses...

  “I want my lawyer.”

  I nearly fell, climbing down from my bunk the next morning, so groggy from the distressing nightmares I’d had the night before. The vision of the prison guard turning into a huge black dog with red eyes was slow to fade. It had seemed so real. The heavy panting on my face, my back pressed into the chair in that tiny room as if the feeble plastic could save me. The other seat had disintegrated the moment Cole … morphed into a beast with teeth sharper and larger than the razorblades topping the fence in the yard. His furry bulk had filled the room, pressing my chair, and me, into the wall. The table careened out from between us, pushed aside by the canine’s sheer enormity.

  One minute, he’d been closing the door with a sigh because I’d made some snarky comment about him getting me alone. Next thing I knew, he’d said, “Pay attention, cupcake. I’m only going to do this once.” Then, he’d turned around, stared at me with eyes suddenly a bright scarlet hue and …. just… shifted. Those ruby eyes then sat above a muzzle pulled back in a snarl, emitting a menacing growl that vibrated my chest as droplets of saliva escaped his terrifying jaws.

  I’d passed out then. When I’d woken just now, I’d been staring at my ceiling.

  Why couldn’t I have had some hot and heavy dreams about Seke in the lawyer room? Instead, my mind tormented me with fantastical manifestations that threatened mutilation if not death. I didn’t think I’d screamed this time. There was no silencing pillow on my face, and no one had actually died, that I knew of, at least. But it was probably another one for the doc’s notepad.

  Stumbling over to the sink to splash water on my face, I screeched to a stop and blinked once… twice. I rubbed my eyes. I must have been crazy because… there was a pillow. In the toilet.

  Just like in my nightmare…

  Whirling, I stared at my roomie’s bed, hoping I might be hallucinating. But there was no pillow on the thin mattress. In fact, there was no roomie. I frowned, looking toward the bars, which were solidly closed, the lights not yet illuminated to alert the inhabitants in the windowless ward that it was wake-up-and-eat time.

  “Ouch.” The pinch to my forearm hurt and sent a wave of terror flooding my body. I wavered on the spot, reaching out for balance, my palm landing on the soft plush of the pillow.

  If that was real… I’d been drugged. He’d taken me alone to a room, and Raven had been in on it. Except, she’d told him it was a mistake. Where was she?

  “Raven?” dumb. As if she’d just materialize when I called her—

  “You find out about Cole then?”

  I screamed and spun. She was leaning against the bars, which were notably closed and had not given audible indication of opening and shutting to permit her entrance. Raising a brow, I panted and slowly lowered my palm from my chest. Her sudden appearance had my heart thudding. Padding over to the bed, Raven laid down without concern for her missing pillow, toed off her flats, and cupped her hands behind her head.

  “Where were you?”

  Turning, her black gaze pinned me to the spot.

  She wasn’t going to answer me. Finally, I processed what she’d said before. “What the hell was that about?” Did the ass get off intimidating new members who he knew were already struggling with coping?

  Her brows rose. “Didn’t he explain?

  I shook my head. “Explain? He didn’t need to. He showed.” So much for the ‘tell’ part.

  She nodded and lost interest in me.

  “And you helped him. You let him cart me away and shove me in a tiny room and… and give me something. What did you do, slip something in my mouth while I was asleep?”

  Lithe and quick, the sudden movement of her body was so fast it startled me into taking a step back. In turn, my anger raised another notch.

  “Wakey, wakey, ladies.” A guard’s voice interrupted as the lights clicked on. “Twenty minutes for showers, then it’s grub time.” The cells clanked open.

  Raven grabbed my arm and all but dragged me from the cell—pausing only to aggressively insert her feet into her shoes. Shoving people roughly out of the way, she frog-marched me into the far corner of the showers—the good spot because it, at least, had one wall.

  “Hey, new girl. Wait your turn!” Big Bertha cajoled.

  Raven snarled in response. I noticed the woman bore a slice in the small space between her brows. The injury held tightly together with two butterfly bandages—though maybe the cut could do with a few stitches. Bertha withered back into the masses without another complaint like a snake reversing under a rock at the sight of a larger predator.

  Raven all but threw me toward the faucet, the force eliciting a stumbling, ungraceful slam into the tiled wall. I really was her punching bag.

  “Ouch! Hey!” Her manner of manhandling could have made her the sister of CO Cole. No wonder she had been fine handing me over to him. Who raised these guys?

  That nagging at the back of my mind reminded me that she’d warned him it was a mistake, yet she hadn’t actually stood up for me. And now what did she want?

  She stared at me, arms crossed, giving me no clues that might provide insight into her odd behavior.

  When I glared back, she huffed and rolled her eyes.

  Fed up, I flung my arms toward the sky. “What do you want?”

  “Stay,” she commanded as if I were a dog. “Shower.”

  I resisted the impulse to sniff my armpits. Had I sweated so much in my delirious state last night that I reeked? Why else would my cellie be insisting I scrub up? “Turn around.” Twirling my finger, I made no move to undress until she wasn’t staring at me. The showers provided little privacy, so I’d take what I could get.

  When she did, I sighed a breath of relief and also turned, presenting my back to the room as I removed my clothes and tossed them onto the bench. It would find its way into a laundry hamper on the way out. Glancing back over my shoulder, I noticed Raven’s black hair vanishing into the naked bodies vying for the limited number of faucets. If you didn’t get in and out in twenty minutes, you either spent the next few days grungy or with unwashed shampoo in your hair.

  My shoulders lowered. Dismissing whatever the fuck just happened, I focused on getting washed quickly before someone came and rudely shoved me out of the highly coveted spot. I didn’t want gunky shampoo hair either.

  Letting the lukewarm water trickle over me, I began to hum to myself, closing my eyes to block everything out. I let the water wash away all the weirdness of the last twenty-four h
ours. The yard and rock. The infirmary. The dreams. My screaming. The connection between the screams and death. CO Michaels being dead. The lawyer…

  My imagination got hung up there as I began to get carried away, lathering my body slower and slower. His dark eyes on me, his accent… and his words had been even better. I let his suggestion that he might be able to get me out of here enter my heart. Could it be true? Could I be free?

  “Y’all got room for one more, sugar?”

  A squawk jumped out of my mouth as my eyes popped open to see the three inmates crowding around me. I jumped back against the freezing tile. Shrieking again, I lurched away from the unwelcome chill and back into the water stream, which immediately flooded into my eyes and mouth.

  “What do you want?” Sputtering, I turned off the faucet, trying to keep my hands over me to protect my modesty while also swiping the droplets from my eyes so I could see. At least, there was no soap to scald my retinas.

  A towel pressed against my face.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, immediately wiping at my face and then snapping it around me. I noticed the women weren’t undressed or in towels. “Did you want the shower?” I asked politely.

  “No time.”

  I blinked past Raven to see that she was right. The room was emptying. The last of the bodies moved toward the exit, again suited up in matching blues, damp towels rudely draped over benches and faucet heads instead of the hamper. I wondered who had to clean up the mess.

  I got the best shower for all twenty minutes?

  It occurred to me that the three women must have been standing there longer than I realized. They must have been preventing anyone from trying to steal my spot. A blush crept up my cheeks, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jessica lick her lips.