“I’ll be good,” I swore, painting a cross over my heart before stepping towards Hastings and holding my hands up in offering so that he could lead me away.
The rest of the guards closed in, the Minotaurs holding their shock batons ready. I’d done a little preparation for those fuckers before coming here in the form of letting Dante hit me with his lightning strikes until I built up a certain level of tolerance to the pain of it. Those things were meant to completely incapacitate the Fae they struck, but I was pretty confident that I could power through the agony of a hit from one if it was necessary now. Not that I intended to test that theory unless I was forced into it.
The experienced guards didn’t seem to buy my innocent act. But my nice choir boy was giving me a look that said he almost felt bad for poor little Rosalie as he reached out to take my wrists.
I whimpered in pain, putting a little extra pathetic into the noise as his fingers brushed my burns.
“What the-”
“That other guard, Cain, attacked me for no reason,” I breathed and there were damn near tears welling in my eyes. I could have been an award winning actress in another life. One that was a lot less fun and a lot more law abiding.
Hastings glanced at Lyle for confirmation on that and he gave him a shrug which didn’t deny it. A moment later, healing magic swept along my skin and the burns were wiped away as if they’d never even existed in the first place.
I sighed, flexing my fingers so that they brushed along his arm as he continued to hold my wrists. “Thank you,” I breathed, batting my eyelashes.
Hastings looked at me a little suspiciously and I wondered if I’d gone a bit too far, but he cleared his throat before joining my cuffs with a chain of magic and drawing me out of the room. He didn’t say a word to reprimand me and I tried not to smirk.
We left the processing cell and I glanced back over my shoulder towards the one and only exit from this place. Meters of steel and several locked doors parted me from the elevator which had delivered me to this concrete hole beneath the ground and that was the only way anyone ever left too. Or at least it was at this moment in time; I planned on coming up with an alternative route pretty soon.
Hastings drew me away from the exit and we passed through another steel door which scanned the guards’ magic and their faces for good measure.
Lyle stopped me as he lifted a handheld scanner from a table on the far side of the door and held it up to my face. A red light shone in my eyes for a long moment before a bleep sounded and the number twelve flashed up on the display as the machine recognised me.
“Whenever a guard comes to take the count, you look into the scanner just like that. Failure to obey this rule is an infraction and you will be punished for it. Understand?” Lyle asked, his blue eyes skimming over me like he knew I was trouble already.
You haven’t got the faintest idea, stronzo.
“Yes,” I replied in a sweet voice.
“Yes, sir,” he growled.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to call me sir,” I replied.
Hastings snorted a laugh and I flashed him a bright smile before he schooled his features.
“If you keep up the smart comments, I’ll revoke your breakfast privileges for tomorrow,” Lyle warned, his red brows lowering as he tried to force me into line.
“Sorry, sir,” I said in a mocking tone, offering him a curtsey.
He exchanged a look with Hastings, growling beneath his breath before turning on his heel and continuing down the concrete corridor.
The Minotaurs muttered something behind me as they fell in at our backs and Hastings maintained his grip on my cuffs as we followed.
So Officer Lyle could be taunted without repercussions and Officer Hastings had a sense of humour. Good to know.
I faked a stumble and Hastings lurched forward to catch me before I could faceplant on the concrete.
My hands landed on his chest, and I bit down on my bottom lip as I looked up into his ocean blue eyes.
“Thank you, ragazzo del coro,” I said in a low voice before stepping back quickly. He was definitely the knight in shining armour type and I could easily work with that. I guessed none of my escort spoke Faetalian because they hadn’t called me out on christening him choir boy and the glint in his eyes said he quite liked my little nickname for him. I almost felt bad for him, but I needed every advantage I could get in here and if it came to it, I was going to eat him alive.
Lyle turned to glare at us and Hastings tugged me into a trot as we hurried to catch up with him again.
“This is Level Eight,” Lyle informed me as we reached him. “Medical and Fate Room. So you’ll only come down here if you’re having really bad luck or really good luck.”
He laughed at his own joke and I gave him crickets in response. But I did cast my gaze towards the Fate Room doors further along the corridor. I’d done my research well before coming in here and I knew about the various units which made up the prison. The Fate Room was the only place down here where we would be offered access to things like tarot cards, crystals and our horoscopes. Access was granted infrequently and at random so I couldn’t expect to get in there very often, but whenever I did I’d be sure to make the most of any glimpse I could get at my fate.
“What’s down there?” I asked, pointing to a corridor which led away beyond the Fate Room. A sign hung above it which read Authorised Personnel Only.
“Psych,” Lyle grunted. “And you might want to thank the stars that we aren’t leading you in that direction.”
I raised my eyebrows at him and fell into step with Hastings again as we turned towards a huge stairwell. I had no real interest in what went on in the Psych Unit. That place was for the criminally insane, dangerously unstable and magically fractured souls who were too depraved to be housed within the main prison. And if they were too fucked up for Darkmore then I was more than sure I didn’t want to make their acquaintance.
Lyle moved to the right and started heading up the stairs, but I hesitated as I looked at the flight leading down.
“What’s that way?” I asked, turning my gaze on Hastings curiously.
“You don’t want to go there either,” he replied with a faint smile. “Interrogation and Isolation.”
“Fondly known as the hole,” Officer Rind muttered behind me and Officer Nichols guffawed appreciatively. I got the impression they were the tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber of this fine establishment, more brawn than brain.
My skin prickled as I craned my neck to get a look down the stairs towards the unit which housed the prisoners who were too dangerous to be allowed to remain in the cell blocks with the general population. My target was waiting for me down there and he didn’t even know his guardian angel had arrived yet.
“Get moving,” Lyle barked and we continued up the stairs.
We made it up to level seven and Lyle turned down the corridor, tossing an amused look my way as he beckoned me after him.
“Sir?” Hastings asked, his brow pinching in confusion. “Why are we taking her-”
“Little Miss Curious wants to know all about the things we keep in this place,” Lyle interrupted. “So I figured she’d like to see what we keep on seven.”
We headed along a dark corridor and I shivered as the temperature dropped around us.
Lyle strode ahead purposefully and we followed him towards an enormous black steel door which blocked our progress on. “You seem to be keen to prove how tough you are, Twelve,” he said, his lips hooking up into a smirk. “So why don’t you come and meet your new cellmate?”
Lyle beckoned me over and Hastings released his hold on me so that I could approach him.
I raised my chin as I walked closer and Lyle pointed me towards the steel door.
A prickle of warning raced down my spine as I drew closer to it, my Wolf instincts warning me to be wary.
A strange scent filled the air, growing stronger as I closed in on the door. It was like something had been left to rot behind th
e black steel with an underlying tinge of smoke.
“What is that?” I asked, but at the sound of my voice, a deep growl rattled from beyond the door.
I sucked in a sharp breath as something huge crashed against the metal.
“I bet you didn’t read about the Belorian in the brochure,” Lyle joked and the Minotaurs laughed darkly behind me. “Go on, say hi.” His hand landed between my shoulder blades and he gave me a shove towards the doors.
If I’d been able to shift I’d have done it in a heartbeat. As it was, I bared my teeth anyway.
“I thought you might lose a bit of that attitude when you were faced with our resident beauty,” Lyle mocked and I growled at the insinuation that I was full of shit.
I was Rosalie Oscura and darkness knew to fear me.
I pressed my shoulders back as I strode towards the door, ignoring my instincts which screamed at me to run and moving to within an inch of the thick steel.
“Are you satisfied now?” I asked, turning to look back at the guards.
An enormous crash sounded as something slammed into the steel door and the whole thing rattled as a terrifying roar echoed through the silence.
I leapt away from the door with a shriek of fright as whatever the fuck was inside that room fought tooth and nail to get out.
“She’s hungry,” Lyle said with a bark of laughter. “The Belorian is an entirely Fae made bio-weapon. The only one of its kind. Think T-Rex on steroids with a more bloodthirsty nature and a dollop of magic mixed in.”
“Why the fuck would you have something like that down here?” I gasped as my heart thundered against my ribs and the desire to run the fuck away damn near consumed me.
“Don’t worry, inmate. We only let her out at night. Just a little extra incentive for you to make sure you head back to your cell block before the count. Because once you’re all locked up tight in your beds, the Belorian here gets let out for walkies. And she’s always hungry.”
I swallowed thickly, backing up another step as the Belorian continued to try and batter its way out of its cage.
Jerome hadn’t mentioned that shit covered nugget of crap when he’d offered me this job. Breaking out of the highest security prison in Solaria with a high profile psychotic inmate? Yeah. Getting past a bio monster bred to hunt and eat runaway convicts? Nope. He hadn’t uttered a word of that. I was damn tempted to ask for a bigger pay cheque.
“Pretty scary, huh?” Hastings teased as he caught hold of the magical chain linking my cuffs again and drew me back towards the stairs.
I went willingly enough. The further I was from that beast the better. And I hoped the cell block doors were ten times as thick as the one currently containing it or I doubted I’d be sleeping one wink during my incarceration here.
“She’s got your scent now, Twelve,” Lyle goaded. “So she’ll know who she’s sniffing if you ever miss curfew…”
I lifted my chin and gave him a cocky smile. “Well I guess it’s a refreshing change from the stink of asshole on the air.”
Hastings snorted a laugh again and Lyle still refused to be baited. I was beginning to like him and his bushy red beard.
We headed up the huge stairwell again but Lyle didn’t make any more detours, instead he just pointed at the entrances to the two floors we passed and explained what they held in layman’s terms.
“Level six, the Correctional Centre and Library. Level five, the Gymnasium – you can work out in there during your free time in the evenings assuming you don’t have your privileges revoked for infractions. Entrance is granted via facial scanner and if you’re not allowed in because you’ve been a prick then the doors won’t open.”
“Good to know,” I muttered. I’d be in serious need of some stress relief in the gym and I just hoped they had a sparring ring so that I could kick some ass to vent my rage.
We made it up to the fourth floor and Lyle led me off of the stairs and we passed an enormous grey door with a blood red A painted on the front of it. “The shower unit is located centrally and you get access to it in the mornings and evenings, taking turns with the other cell blocks for who gets to wash first.”
We passed Cell Block B and then the showers where a damp, mildewy scent caught in the back of my throat. Lovely.
We kept going down the long, grey, emotionless corridor, passing Cell Block C and heading to the very end of the hall.
We came to a halt by a huge metal door with a red D scrawled across it which blocked the way on.
“Cell Block D,” Lyle announced as if I couldn’t read.
Hastings released me, removing the chain which linked my cuffs so that I could use my hands freely and the four guards stepped back to give me some space. “Each cell is designed to hold two Fae. There’s two bunks, a toilet and a nice metal door which locks up tight at night time. There are currently five hundred and fourteen Fae in this cell block and one hundred cells which means two hundred beds. However, not everyone who has claimed a cell chooses to share it. So if you want a bed, you’re going to have to challenge someone for it. If you fail, you sleep in the coop on the lower deck which is basically a big old cage with no mattresses and only four toilets to share. In the open. And we provide blankets but again, there aren’t enough to go around so you’ll need to work hard to keep yours, particularly if you can’t claim a bunk. Obviously sleeping out in the open with a bunch of psychotic assholes isn’t ideal and there is a fairly high rate of overnight incidents for those Fae who can’t secure themselves a cosy cell.”
“So, just to clarify. When I claim a cell, I don’t have to let anyone share it with me?” I asked, rolling the sleeves of my jumpsuit back.
The Minotaurs guffawed like the idea of me claiming a cell was insane and I smirked to myself. Just watch me, boys.
“If you managed to claim a cell and if you were able to defeat anyone who tried to claim the spare bunk in said cell then no, you wouldn’t be required to share. But there are only a handful of Fae in the whole Penitentiary who have managed that, so I wouldn’t go getting your hopes up.”
“And is there a cell that you would think of as the best cell in the block?” I asked sweetly as I reached up to twist my long hair into a knot, wrapping it tightly in case any little bitches got any ideas about pulling on it.
“I believe the inmates enjoy the view from the third floor. Up there, you can’t hear the screams from the lower deck so loudly in the night,” Lyle said, looking amused as fuck by me like I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But that was where he was wrong.
“Alright then,” I said, shaking my hands out to get the blood flowing to my fingers. “Let’s go.”
Lyle turned from me to a panel on the wall and I watched as he pressed his hand to it, unlocking the door with a pulse of his magic.
A deep buzz sounded and an orange light illuminated above the door as it rose from the ground and slid up to reveal the cell block beyond.
I licked my lips as I took in the huge open space that spread out ahead of me. Fae in orange jumpsuits loitered around the communal space, sitting at metal picnic benches which were bolted to the ground or boxing in a far corner where a ring of spectators placed bets on who they thought would win.
Everything was built of pale grey metal which glimmered with some internal magic which no doubt imbued it with strength. Metal staircases led up to more gangways which allowed access to the three levels of cells.
All I could see of the cells from my position on the ground were rows of dark doorways, each of which had a number painted above it in blood red.
A few of the inmates looked my way curiously, rising to their feet and circling closer like sharks who smelled blood in the water. Most of them were bulked up with muscles, tattoos scrawled across their skin and had a general murderous look in their eyes. One even blew a mocking kiss at me and grabbed his crotch. I winked at him casually, though in all honesty, half bald dudes about forty years my senior weren’t my type.
A metal gangway slid into plac
e before me, extending from the floor beneath my boots to create a bridge into the cell block and making the floor tremble slightly as it moved. I didn’t wait for the guards to nudge me into action before striding out onto it, my boots echoing hollowly as I crossed it. Beneath the bridge was a magical void which appeared to be made of nothing but black smoke, but I knew what that was. Evernight vapour could knock a Fae out cold for six hours if you inhaled it and all the time you were unconscious, you would feel like you were being burned alive from the inside out. The Void extended for twenty steps, and when the cell block door was closed, the bridge would retract into the wall and none of the inmates would be able to get close to it.
I looked around at my new home curiously, spotting a guy hanging from his ankles as he swung from the second floor gangway, screaming obscenities at everyone in sight.
A prickle ran up the back of my spine and I instantly picked out several other Werewolves in the crowd, my Order form recognising them instinctively from within the confines of my Fae flesh. My gaze skipped between them, the beast in me seeking out the Alpha on instinct as I resisted the urge to growl a warning. A true Alpha didn’t need to assert their dominance through petty displays like growling or the baring of teeth. The pack would fall into line beneath me soon enough without them.
I noticed symbols on the uniforms of some of the other prisoners as I drew closer, marking out their Orders and magical Elements. There were Harpies, Centaurs, Sirens, Griffins and even a herd of the meanest looking Pegasuses I’d ever seen. For an Order who usually radiated happiness and excitement, the Darkmore herd sure looked like a miserable bunch of fuckers. One of them even had a tattoo on his bicep of a Pegasus spearing a Fae to death on its horn. Nice.
I didn’t offer the Fae closest to me much attention. They were the bottom dwellers, lurking close to suss me out, wondering what rank I might claim in the cell hierarchy, but not really looking to challenge me. They’d wait and see how I faired against some of the bigger fish in the tank before they’d take their chances.
The four guards escorted me over the bridge, but they stopped at the edge of it.
Darkmore Penitentiary (Supernatural Prison for Dark Fae Book 1) Page 4