Darkmore Penitentiary (Supernatural Prison for Dark Fae Book 1)

by Caroline Peckham

  “Non dovresti sottovalutarmi, Roary,” I purred. You shouldn’t underestimate me, Roary.

  He opened his mouth but I didn’t give him a chance to respond, pushing my hands straight into his hair as I leaned forward like I might kiss him.

  A growl escaped his lips but it wasn’t the kind to warn me off, more the type to draw me closer.

  His hands fell to my waist and he looked up at me for a moment that seemed to stretch as neither of us moved any closer.

  My heart fluttered at the mere fact that I was even in this position after spending so many of my growing years daydreaming about things like this.

  My fingers pushed deeper into his soft hair and his grip on my waist tightened like he was caught between dragging me closer and pushing me off.

  “Rosa…” he said slowly and my jaw tightened as I felt yet another rejection hovering on his lips.

  But fuck that. I refused to let him make me feel like a stupid little kid ever again.

  “You need to work on your dares, Lion boy,” I said with a snort of amusement before shoving off of him as quickly as I’d taken my seat.

  I dropped down on the bench beside him again, leaving a nice healthy gap between us this time as I ignored the stares we were drawing from around the Compound. Two of the prisons gang leaders hooking up would definitely be worthy of gossip, but me and Roary Night were not worth discussing. He was just my old friend.

  I snorted a laugh at my own joke and Roary cut me a look that said he hadn’t quite decided whether to hit me with the I’m friends with your cousin and far too old for you horse shit or not.

  “I was talking to Dante about some old family stories,” I said casually before he could, like my heart wasn’t racing from climbing on top of him like that and I didn’t care about it at all.

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, clearly deciding to give his tired routine a rest. Probably because the only thing I’d done was follow the dare he set out anyway. “My brother’s been going on about a few old stories with me too actually. Maybe they think that if we dwell in the past together we can forget about what’s going on in the present…”

  I smirked at him as I tucked my legs up beneath me, meaning to swap the details of these so called memories which would hold more details about the way the ipump500 worked and therefore teach me how to fix my problem with the Order Suppressant.

  But before either of us could say any more, a maniacal laugh interrupted us and I looked up in surprise as Sook ran across the yard in front of us.

  As I watched, she dropped to the ground and started calling out.

  “Sausage, sausage, I’m a sausage rolllll!”

  She stuck her arms up above her head and began rolling across the concrete doing an impression of a sausage.

  My lips parted in surprise as more than a few of the surrounding convicts started to laugh.

  “What’s she doing?” I asked, a smile twitching the corner of my mouth as she rolled away from us.

  Roary didn’t reply and I looked back to him, finding a frown pulling at his brow.

  “What’s up?” I asked in confusion because he seriously looked like someone had just taken a shit in his ice cream and I was left feeling like I was absolutely missing something.

  “Exactly how much do you need a Polethius Mole Shifter to pull off your plan?” he asked me in a low tone.

  “What?” I shifted closer to him as I caught on to the seriousness of his mood. “Why are you asking me that? Do you doubt her capabilities now that you know she likes to spend her down time playing sausage? Hell, I might like to play sausage from time to time, though my rules would be pretty different to hers, and-”

  “This is serious, Rosa,” Roary cut me off, catching my arm and drawing me to my feet as he pulled me away from the bench and headed to the back of the chamber.

  He looked over to Claud, the leader of his Shades, and within moments we were shielded from the guards or any other nosey fuckers by a wall of his followers as he drew me into a corner.

  “You’re worrying me, Roar,” I said, trying to keep my voice light as his gaze darkened and he threw a silencing bubble up around us to keep our conversation private.

  “Sook has never acted like that before as far as I’ve seen and she’s been in here six years.” he said seriously.

  I frowned as I considered his question. “You think she’s losing the plot like that guy who Hastings tackled in the middle of the Mess Hall?” I asked with a frown. “I mean, she’s just mucking about - he cracked harder than a teapot hitting concrete.”

  Roary didn’t laugh which was ridiculous because that shit was funny.

  “Yeah, he was in the last stage.”

  “The last stage of what?” I asked, the smile slipping from my face as I realised he wasn’t joking.

  “The guards call it under stimulation.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “They say that some Fae can’t take being cut off from their magic and Order forms as much as we are. As in, their minds can’t take it. So they just lose the plot, start acting crazy and eventually they snap hard enough to pose a danger to themselves or the other inmates. After that, they’re hauled off to Psych and never seen again.” Roary looked around like he expected someone to be watching us through his wall of Shades.

  “You think Sook is going to end up in Psych?” I asked anxiously, chewing on my thumbnail as I considered that.

  “Undoubtedly.”

  For my plan to work I absolutely needed a Polethius Mole. There were only two in the entire Prison and I would only be asking Plunger along for the ride over my cold, rotting corpse. Which meant we needed Sook Min to keep her shit together.

  “Alright, I’ll go talk to her, see if I can coax her back from the brink of crazy and-”

  “It won’t matter,” Roary growled. “I’ve seen people try and help Fae when they go Under before. Nothing works. Once they start showing symptoms it’s only a matter of time before they’re relocated to Psych.”

  I bit my tongue against a pointless argument with him over it. He’d been here a hell of a lot longer than me and if he said that that was what always happened then I was willing to take his word for it. “Then we need to hide her freak flag long enough for us to escape. Once she’s free, she can get to her magic and Order form twenty four seven and she’ll be fine. Problem solved.”

  “You aren’t going to be able to hide her Under tendencies if she keeps up the sausage impersonations,” Roary growled. “Not to mention what she’ll do when she fully snaps.”

  “So what do you suggest, oh great and powerful convict king? Because I’m trying to come up with solutions and all you’re doing is shitting on my parade like a pigeon with diarrhoea.”

  He didn’t laugh at that either which was a fricking travesty and I rolled my eyes as I tried to think of some other way to stop Sook from being carted off to the crazy capital.

  “So how come you’ve never gone Under then?” I asked casually, like we were chatting about the weather not suggesting he might lose control of his shit at any moment.

  “That’s another weird thing about the Fae who go Under,” he muttered. “There’s no rhyme nor reason to it that I can see. I’ve seen a guy get hauled off to Psych in his second week here for going Under but there are also bastards who had served a long sentence before I even showed my face here ten years ago and they’re still swimming in the main tank. I don’t get why some people snap after a few days, others a few weeks, months or even years. And some never snap at all. There’s no pattern to it either. Young, old, Dragon, Siren, Harpy or Polethius Mole, it can strike anyone. And something about the whole thing just reeks of wrong to me.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, for example no two people ever snap at once. They don’t ever exhibit symptoms at the same time. We get one crazy at a time and once they’re gone, that’s it. Then maybe two weeks later, the show starts again. It’s like some weird cycle that’s a little too irregular to really be irregular.” />
  “Merde,” I cursed. “I need my Mole. I don’t wanna lose her to Psych or anything else. Who else might know more about this Under stuff than you?” I demanded.

  “No one. Well, none of the convicts anyway. Who knows what the guards know? They wouldn’t tell us anyway so what’s the point of asking?”

  A smile tugged at my lips at that suggestion. “Well, they wouldn’t tell you…”

  “You think you’ve got enough sway on a guard to get answers from them?” Roary scoffed.

  “Maybe,” I replied slowly. “Only one way to be sure.”

  Roary shook his head at my ego, but I caught the smile hooking up his lips too.

  “Go on then, oh mighty Oscura Queen,” he challenged.

  “Maybe I will. And in the meantime, I bet you won’t lick Officer Lucius.”

  I left Roary with that challenge hanging in the air as he finally laughed and I turned away from him to find my little choir boy. I was sure it wouldn’t be too hard to squeeze a little information from that wet cloth before he even realised what I was doing. Although, that said, Hastings was new here, almost as new as me and that probably meant he didn’t know a whole hell of a lot about things that had been happening within the prison for years.

  I moved towards the exit, my gaze skimming over the guards who were gathering beyond the magic proof glass which blocked our way out of here so that they could escort us to our work places once our session ended.

  Cain was waiting out there already, ramrod straight with his hands clasped at the base of his spine as he scowled out at us. The other guards were chatting amongst themselves, smiling and laughing in their camaraderie. But not my dark souled Vampire, he stood separate from it, his gaze scouring the convicts like he was hunting for his next meal and as his eyes fell on me, they lit in a way which said he’d found it.

  But if I expected to get any information out of my C.O. he was going to be a hell of a lot harder to crack than the choir boy.

  Instead of holding his gaze with a provocative look like I usually would, I dropped my eyes and let my bottom lip slide into the barest hint of a pout.

  I didn’t stay before the glass either, but twisted my fingers into my hair nervously and released a soft whimper as I wandered away.

  The first of my Wolves arrived within moments, a low whine escaping her lips as she raced towards me.

  “Are you okay, Alpha?” Esme asked, reaching out to embrace me and I let her, enjoying the contact with another of my kind.

  That was enough to draw the whole pack running and I sighed again as hands slid over my body and I was pulled from Fae to Fae as they all worked to comfort me against my mystery problem.

  Sonny got hold of me and wouldn’t let go, muttering curses as he tried to figure out what had me so upset.

  Whispers and murmurs filled the air around me as they all asked what was wrong and made multiple guesses.

  “I think she stubbed her toe.”

  “She broke up with Roary Night.”

  “She needs to get laid.”

  “She needs the moon.”

  “I’m going to get her more pillows for her bed.”

  “Let me sing her a song.”

  “She’s missing home.”

  “I can give her a foot rub.”

  “She’s sad she can’t fix her hair nicely in here.” That one was rude. I cuffed the offending Wolf around the ear and he had the good grace to look mortified as he scampered back with his tail between his legs.

  Amira lingered amongst the pack, offering words of concern while managing to hold back. I had to force myself not to growl whenever I was in her presence and I turned my gaze away from her now. That bitch wouldn’t know what hit her when I exposed her betrayal to the pack. But for now, I was biding my time. Revenge was a dish best served cold and I planned on serving hers up at sub zero.

  The buzzer finally sounded to mark the end of our time in the Magic Compound and I stayed amongst my Wolf pack as they pressed closer still, desperate to soothe me.

  I would have felt bad for causing them so much heartache if it wasn’t so important that I did it.

  The rest of the inmates all filed back inside to have their magic cut off and head for their cell blocks or jobs until finally, it was just me and my pack left.

  Sonny kept trying to get me to confide in him, but I just shook him off with a sad whimper which made him howl in frustration.

  I made them all leave ahead of me too and the guards ensured none of them waited for me on the other side either.

  So when it was finally my turn to step through the first door and present my manacled wrists to the guard inside the booth, I raised my hands like an obedient little pup and let him cut off my access to my magic without a word of complaint.

  The second door opened the moment my magic was secured and I headed out to find Cain waiting for me like I’d expected.

  “Come on, Twelve, you’ve got work to do on Maintenance again today,” he said, drawing closer like he expected me to resist in some way.

  “Yes, sir,” I murmured without looking at him before heading along the corridor towards the stairs.

  His clipped steps soon joined mine and we walked side by side towards the lowest level of my underground tomb.

  Cain was silent for a long time, but I could feel his curiosity and irritation rising the further we went.

  It took everything I had not to start smirking as he slowly fell into my trap.

  I waited as he unlocked the isolation unit doors and led me inside. We kept going, heading down the stairs to Maintenance until we were finally in the enormous room and the sounds of the whirring machinery filled the air.

  “Spill it, Twelve, why do you look like someone just pissed on your grandma?” Cain snarled.

  I kept my gaze on my feet and didn’t answer him.

  Cain growled menacingly. “I asked you a question, inmate.”

  I kept my lips sealed and he reached out to grab my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his.

  “You wouldn’t give a shit anyway,” I muttered, looking away from him again so that my eyes fixed on a point over his shoulder.

  “Probably not. But you’re still going to spill it.”

  I hesitated just long enough for him to know I was unsure. “I shouldn’t be talking to a guard about this,” I said eventually.

  “I think by now, we’ve shared enough secrets for you to offer me one more,” he pressed. “Besides, if you start bitching about the other inmates being mean to you, I’m not going to give a shit anyway. I certainly wouldn’t do anything to help you.”

  “If only my problems were so simple,” I muttered.

  “Spill,” he demanded.

  I shook his grip from my chin and stepped back. “What do you know about the inmates they keep carting off to Psych?” I asked vaguely.

  A fire lit in Cain’s eyes and he shot forward, shoving me back against the closest wall as he looked at me like I’d just offered him some kind of gift.

  “Tell me everything,” he insisted.

  I shook my head, my heart pounding at the contact of his body with mine. “Why would you give a shit about what’s happening to us anyway?” I hissed.

  Cain snarled, leaning down to force my gaze to meet his again.

  “Tell me what you know about this, Twelve.”

  “Why?”

  An endless moment passed between us where I refused to speak another word and he glared at me.

  “Maybe I’ve noticed some things about the inmates taken to Psych too,” he said eventually in a low voice.

  “Really?” I breathed, inching closer to him.

  “Really. So why don’t you tell me what you know and I’ll give you the same curtesy?”

  I looked at him for another long moment, mistrust filling my gaze as I held my tongue.

  “Fine,” Cain snarled eventually. “I’ll tell you what I know first.”

  Jackpot.

  “There’s something strange about the way they do
things down in Psych. They won’t even let me inside and the only person who outranks me in this place is the Warden herself.”

  “So you think they’re hiding something?” I asked carefully. If he caught on to me now then I’d never get anything else out of him.

  “Why keep everything about it so secret if they don’t have something to hide?” he muttered and I chewed on my lip as I thought about that.

  “Maybe they’re just trying to protect the privacy of the inmates down there…Or maybe they don’t want people knowing that the things you subject us to in here make Fae snap,” I suggested.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled.

  “If the inmates are only losing their shit because we’re cut off from our Orders and Magic too much then that doesn’t exactly look good, does it? It kinda suggests we’re maltreated.”

  Cain barked a laugh. “You don’t get it, do you? You were sent here to rot. The rulers of Solaria don’t give one shit about you. You’re only lucky that executions were banned after The Savage King died. There was so much bloodshed during his reign that the people demanded an end to it, so the Celestial Councillors gave in. But that doesn’t mean they suddenly started giving a shit about the scum of the earth murderers and rapists who they send here. No one gives a fuck if you all go insane and have to be locked up in padded cells for the rest of your miserable existences. Why do you think this place was dug beneath the ground?”

  “To make it harder to escape?”

  “No. Because down here it’s easy to forget about you. Out of sight, out of mind. No one cares what happens to any of you down here. They just want to forget you exist,” he growled, his eyes alight with his belief in those words.

  “I guess so,” I agreed, though it left a bitter taste in my mouth. “But that means there’s some other reason for the secrecy…” I held my tongue as I waited to see what else he might know or suspect about Psych.

  “We don’t mix with the staff there or even know their names. And whenever an inmate is processed into their system we never hear from them again,” Cain growled, clearly irritated by the fact.