Siren Sacrificed

by C. R. Jane

  I offered the guard a curt smile as I walked out of my cell.

  He sneered at me, the healed cut across his chin deepening. “Too early to be smiling.” Locking the door behind us, he turned and waved for me to follow him. We hurried toward the kitchen, and only our echoing footfalls kept us company.

  Boris greeted us in the cafeteria. He was the head chef, a burly man in a deep blue apron, his long hair pulled into a ponytail. His head popped up, our gazes meeting. “Good, you’re here. Selena, we are changing your shift.”

  “Okay, no problem.”

  I walked up to him as several of the other kitchen workers crossed the room to the back of the cafeteria.

  “You are now to take specific deliveries to selected prisoners,” he explained.

  I blinked at him, unsure what he was talking about. “Like special meals?”

  He huffed with pure frustration that I didn’t comprehend his cryptic explanation in the first place.

  “Your role is much more than just meals now, girl. Are you even listening to me?”

  I bit back the words that he said no such thing, but I just stared at him, waiting for the details so I could piece together this train wreck of a conversation.

  “When a prisoner has specific requirements, you will be called to deliver them. And your first delivery is this morning.” He glanced over to a trolley with a fresh towel, a folded prison uniform, and a white tube with no description.

  My world froze, and a sour truth slid down my throat that the warden had reneged on his offer for me to work in the kitchen in exchange for Seth’s crystal.

  The longer I stared at the trolley, the more I pictured myself pushing that thing into cells in order to sleep with complete strangers as my duty.

  Hell no!

  I backed away from Boris, my heart rattling inside my rib cage, and a sickness rose to the back of my throat.

  “I-I c-can’t do this,” I stammered.

  Boris arched a brow, staring at me like I might be mad. “You can’t deliver food and fresh clothes to an inmate?”

  It took moments for his words to roll over my mind. “What’s in the tube?”

  He glanced over to the trolley with the goods and back at me, pausing a bit too long. One corner of his mouth peeled upward. He burst into laughter, clear he’d worked out what I had been thinking.

  “As far as I know, the warden’s instructions were simply for you to make specific deliveries every day to whomever he requested. And that includes feeding them, washing them, keeping them company. The sex part I can’t comment on, but to put you at ease, that tube is disinfectant.”

  I suddenly felt stupid for jumping to such a conclusion, but considering everything, it was definitely warranted.

  “Now, do you think you can handle that? Your visit today is to the fae in cell 372.”

  “Seth.” The word dribbled past my lips, and now it all made sense. The warden had just offered me every chance to spend more time with him and collect insider information from the fae. The disinfectant would come in handy. Though it felt stupid to patch him up only for the guards to punish him every day and reopen wounds.

  Boris turned and marched toward the kitchen before tossing over his shoulder, “You will report here every morning for your next delivery assignment.”

  I nodded, even if he hadn’t looked back, and I wandered over to the trolley, deciding I ought to get this over with. The guard from this morning stood at the door, seeming to wait for me.

  I marched out of the cafeteria with the trolley, the guard taking the lead, and part of me wished it had been Keon who collected me this morning.

  “Selena,” a female called from behind me, and I paused as one of the new kitchen hands, Elika, rushed over, carrying a tray with a large bowl, slices of bread, and utensils. The soup sloshed around the edges of the bowl, some of it splashing onto the tray, making a mess. She slid the whole thing onto the bottom shelf of the trolley and breathed heavy, staring at me with a scolding expression.

  She was slightly shorter than me, thinner, and of Scandinavian descent by her features and white blonde hair.

  “Boris would have murdered me if you left without the soup. Shit, Selena, next time, have some consideration for others.”

  “Pardon me?” I stiffened at her gruff demeanor.

  “You heard me.” She lifted her chin and spun on her heels before marching back into the cafeteria. Okay, someone’s an utter bitch this morning.

  I ground my back teeth, because it was too freaking early to deal with people’s issues.

  “Don’t pay her any attention,” the guard explained. “She’s just pissy because Boris dumped her for a younger model. Elika will sleep with anyone I hear, but then, most girls do in this joint.” He snorted a laugh, and I wanted to kick him in the back of the knees so he fell flat on his face.

  Not saying Elika’s behavior was excusable, but no one wanted to be dumped and rejected. Hell, wars had been started by rejected lovers. And his comment about females annoyed the hell out of me.

  “What about you?” he asked, and I glared at him, to which he didn’t seem to notice. “You found yourself a protector in here? Every girl has one. And if you’re looking for one, hit me up. Of course, there’ll be a payment required.” His leering gaze turned to me that time and dragged down my body.

  I instantly felt dirty and sickened. A shiver ran up my spine, and I ripped my gaze from his. “I don’t need your help,” I hissed, both disgusted and angry that this was how this loser saw women. Assholes like him must prey on newcomers to the prison.

  “If you change your mind,” he continued, but I no longer listened, and instead, paid attention to the voices of the prisoners waking up.

  When we paused in front of Seth’s cell, the guard stood in front of the door, staring at me like he’d asked me a question. On the inside, I screamed for him to get out of my face, but I said nothing.

  He tapped his name badge above his chest. Trevor. “Remember me, okay, sweets?”

  I exhaled loudly, and when he finally got the message, he turned and opened the cell door. “I’ll come and collect you in an hour.”

  I pushed the trolley inside, and I already felt the unease in my gut after my last encounter with Seth.

  Thump.

  I flinched and looked over my shoulder to where Trevor had locked me in here, then the asshole walked away. Great. My safety was of no concern clearly.

  Across the room, the fae sat on the edge of his bed, leaning forward, elbows on his thighs, head hanging low.

  My feet stopped moving, and for those few seconds, I was uncertain on the best way to approach this. In the end, I opted to keep the trolley between us until I could gauge his mood. Though in truth, I’d only ever seen him two ways… Furious, or in agonizing pain.

  And neither was preferable.

  The wheels of the trolley decided to squeak when I pushed it across the room, causing Seth to lift his head in my direction. He wore orange pants and a black tee stained with patches of blood. Shadows danced under his eyes, and his lips were pale. Underneath the dirt and agony lay an incredibly handsome man. Of course, those weren’t the thoughts I should have when in reality, I was in danger if he decided to take out his anger on me.

  “Feeling guilty again?” he asked without a thread of humor in his voice.

  I licked my lips nervously and paused a few feet away. “I think the warden has taken pity on you since I’m here to bring you some food and tend to your wounds.”

  His light blue eyes narrowed, and yeah, I wouldn’t buy that lie either, so I added, “Maybe the man has a conscience after all.” I gave him a crooked grin, which he didn’t react to.

  “The warden is a self-serving fuckwit who will do anything for money or ancient artifacts. Everyone knows the man is easily swayed. Except calling him a man is an insult to humans.”

  I blinked at Seth, because that was probably the longest conversation we’d held without him wanting to toss me out of his way or thrott
le me. I’d take that as progress.

  “Do you know what he is?” I leaned down and collected the tray of soup and placed it on the small bedside table.

  When Seth didn’t respond, I stood and noticed he was on his feet. He towered over me, standing proud, shoulders wide. This insanely handsome fae didn’t belong in this shithole, but in a kingdom with a crown. The aura pouring from him screamed royalty, despite the stained clothes, the wounds covering his skin, and the exhaustion in his eyes. Guilt slammed through my mind that I added to his grief.

  “I can do the rest myself,” he demanded.

  I looked over to the shut door and back at him. “I’m stuck here until they deem it has been sufficient time. So how about I apply some of the disinfectant to the wounds on your back where you can’t reach?”

  He shook his head and walked over to the prison door, banging his fist on it. “Guards,” he bellowed.

  I gritted my teeth so hard, it sent a shooting pain up into my head.

  After he kept banging, he caught the attention of a guard. “Get her out of my cell now. I want her out,” he growled.

  I couldn’t help but feel hurt that he wanted me to leave so quickly, but I said nothing when the guard looked over to me. He then proceeded to tap the piece in his ear and turned away as he murmured to security or who knows. Moments later, he opened the door, and Seth stepped aside for me to leave.

  I straightened my posture, hating the embarrassed blush hitting my cheeks at the way he treated me.

  Hastily, I placed the clean clothes, towel and tube on his bed, then pushed the empty trolley out of the cell. He didn’t even look at me, and my stomach rolled.

  Fuck. How the hell was I supposed to get close to him if he couldn’t stand the sight of me?

  The door shut behind me, and I didn’t even look back, but marched out of there as fast as I could. Back in the kitchen, there was no sign of Boris, so I returned the trolley out the back with the others and headed into the kitchen to see if they needed help. I had to do something to keep distracted and from overthinking about how I would deal with Seth and the warden.

  Days passed by.

  Each morning, I’d be given a trolley with clothes, food, medicine, and even snacks for Seth. He waited for me near the door of his cell, took the goods and told the guard I couldn’t stay. I would be in too much danger if I remained. So the guard removed me.

  Today, I was seething that he continued to play this game, and I was going to stay in his room regardless of what he said. I had it all planned out in my head for when he addressed the guard.

  I pushed the trolley, a smug smile tugging at my lips as we approached his cell. The guard opened the door, and I squared my shoulders, stepping into Seth’s room.

  My gaze swept to where he’d been standing the last few days, except he wasn’t there. I slipped deeper into the room and found him lying in bed. My pulse thudded in my throat because it meant his last beating would have been more than severe.

  The door shut with a final thud, and I moved toward his bed to find him on his stomach, his eyes barely open. I looked at his back and gasped, my stomach falling through me.

  His back was a cross-cross myriad of cuts, some still open and bleeding.

  My eyes pricked at seeing the cruelty, and I wanted to cry for him. I had no idea if the rumors about him killing his father were true, but I was convinced in my heart they weren’t. And all I could think about was that he suffered so much.

  “Selena.” My name fell off his lips in a whisper.

  “I’m here.” I didn’t waste a single moment, and I turned to the trolley where I grabbed the towel and antiseptic tube. There were also bandages in this one, and now I understood why they added them in the trolley. Part of me felt sick to my stomach to think the warden had Seth beaten this morning so terribly to stop him from throwing me out of his cell.

  I shook with anger at the warden, and I wanted him to hurt and feel this pain. In haste, I collected the empty bowl of food on his bedside table and filled it with water. Then I dragged the small stool and sat near him with the strip of bandages and tape in my lap.

  “I-I’m alright,” he groaned, barely able to speak.

  “Sure you are.” I wet one end of the towel lightly and lightly patted his pack.

  He arched slightly, hissing.

  “I promise I will be quick, but this will stop an infection.” I didn’t stop wiping the wounds until most of the blood was gone.

  “Fae heal fast,” he muttered, like somehow that alleviated the agony he was going through.

  Unscrewing the lid from the disinfectant, I answered, “Does that mean your injuries won’t get infected, because I somehow doubt that.”

  He twisted his head to look up at me, his lips tightening. “What do you know about fae that makes you so sure of yourself?”

  I tossed my head back and shrugged, then squeezed out a long line of cream onto my finger. “I know fae are arrogant and stubborn. They would rather suffer in silence than even admit they need help.”

  A growl hummed deep in his throat. “And what about you, siren-girl? Pushy. Must have the last word. I’m guessing very disobedient, and atrocious at lying.”

  “I. Am. Not. Any of those things,” I snapped, and lathered the cream over his wounds, maybe a bit too harshly.

  Seth groaned, his whole body stiffening from the sting. “And you like to inflict pain.”

  “Yep, you finally got one thing right,” I confessed and eased off the pressure.

  His eyes shut, the muscles in his arms tensing as I finished applying the antiseptic.

  The cream had blended with some of the blood, turning into a pinkish hue, but I didn’t stop until I covered every cut. Gingerly, I ran my finger outside the edges of the wounds I could only imagine were done by a whip.

  When I wiped my hand on the towel, Seth opened his eyes and looked at me, something new flaring over his mesmerizing eyes. They gleamed.

  “What has the warden promised you?” he asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Be a good girl and open your eyes to when you’re being used.”

  My hands fisted the towel in my lap, and I imagined myself charging out of there…but that was exactly what he wanted. And I wouldn’t let him win. “You are rude and insufferable. You don’t even know me to say that shit. You have no idea what I’ve gone through or am going through. And you know what? When I was asked to help you, I jumped at the idea because I felt bad for giving away your crystal. So if that makes me a terrible person, then hell, I must be the worst in this penitentiary.”

  Sure, I exaggerated…a lot…but he had me fuming.

  “Then tell me about yourself,” he asked.

  Never, was my initial thought, then it occurred to me this might be his way of reaching out to me.

  I ripped off a piece of bandage and tape and started plastering his back. “I’m an ordinary girl who grew up in an over-protective family and was being groomed for a horrible life, then I ended up in this joint.”

  Seth laughed, then broke into painful groans, his eyes squinting shut.

  I wanted to say, served you right, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so when he suffered so much. And this was why I wasn’t made for a life in prison.

  When he finally quieted down, he murmured, “You are anything but ordinary.”

  A sudden blush of heat hit my cheeks, convinced he just gave me a compliment. Maybe. I didn’t really know.

  But I focused on his back, running my index finger over the edges of the tape holding down his bandages, at the flow of muscles over his torso beneath the patchwork of injuries. He was definitely a work of art, and I traced the tips of my fingers over the softness of his skin between the dressing. I followed the curves, liking how he felt under my touch.

  “Listen, Seth,” I started. “You may hate me, but we need to work together. I think the warden is punishing you for not letting me stay in your cell to help you out.”

  His brows pinched together. “Why
does he want you here with me?” he groaned.

  The response tittered on the edge of my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. He’d never open up to me if he knew I had so much to lose as well. Telling Seth the truth wouldn’t do me any favors.

  “He’s a bastard,” I answered. “You think he wants anyone to go against his order? He’s flexing his power, that’s all. So stop telling the guard to get rid of me. Please. I’ll sit in a corner and read or something, but I can’t see you like this.” My breath caught in my chest, and I swallowed hard.

  For a long moment, I kept tracing his back, which seemed to calm him down.

  When there was no response, and I glanced down, he breathed heavily, his eyes shut and asleep. My presence alone calmed people, and combined with my soothing touch, it definitely helped put him at ease. But had he heard my warning?

  Slowly, I got up from the chair and packed up everything on the trolley when white chalk lines drew my attention underneath the dressing table near the bed.

  I blinked, curious to what it could be, so I shifted the small piece of furniture aside and stared down to the dark stone ground. And looking back at me was a beautiful sketch of me. I could barely breathe. Seth drew an image of me.

  Long hair flowed over my shoulders as if caught in a wind, my eyes were huge and glimmered, my lips slightly parted. The expression he captured was that of sorrow…a girl lost in a dark world. Was that how he saw me?

  Groaning, he slowly shifted in the bed.

  I frantically replaced the small table over the drawing, still unable to believe he thought of me to the point that he’d illustrate me. And he was talented.

  A shadow fell over me from the door, and I looked over to find the guard. Had it really been an hour?

  Taking the trolley, I pushed it across the room as the guard unlocked the door.

  I took one last glance over my shoulder to Seth, who hadn’t stirred. Then my attention dipped to the bedside table and the few lines of white chalk sticking out. Why was he sketching me?