Savage Lands (Savage Lands #1)

by Stacey Marie Brown

The harsh morning bell rang through the stacked city, reverberating off the metal like an out-of-tune violin. The doors to our cages slid open.

  Sick to my stomach, exhausted, and in agony, I didn’t want to leave my cell. I simply wanted to sleep the rest of the day. But it would be a victory for them if I didn’t show up. They’d think they broke me. Even three against one, I would not bow to them.

  A guttural cry began in my gut as I used the wall to rise, wrapping my arm around my middle, my bruised ribs protesting every movement. My uniform was spotted with drying blood, dirt, and what looked like vomit, which probably happened in the middle of the night and didn’t remember. I bent over, sucking in gulps of air, slamming my jaw together to keep the tears from spilling down my face.

  Chirp.

  My gaze went to the imp. “What?”

  “She just said you’re a fucking idiot, but hey, I say the show must go on. Good on ya, fishy.” He fisted the air in encouragement.

  Having no energy to fight with an asshole imp, I shut my eyes, conjuring all the strength I could muster. Inhaling, I opened my eyes and took a step toward the door and almost fainted. Grabbing the bars, I watched the flood of prisoners heading to the bathroom, filling up the walkway. Many peered in at me, as though surprised to see me standing. All of them either encouraged or ignored the beating outside the cells the night before.

  Camaraderie didn’t exist here. Everyone for themselves. Every alliance was as thin as tissue paper.

  “Have a good day, little fish,” Opie yelled to me as I pitched myself into the throng, heading to the toilets with the herd of sheep. Halfway there, I almost turned back around. Consequences be damned.

  “You are like fire, Brex. People try to put you out, but you come back with a roar,” Caden’s voice whispered in my head, the image of him leaning against the hospital room door, watching me put on my boots, heading back to training after a brutal session which had put me in the clinic for a night. “You amaze me.”

  At the time, I thought friendship filled the sentiment, but now I could recall the way his eyes tracked me, a softness in them. Longing.

  How did I not see it? Why did I not ever tell him how I felt? Now I would never have the chance to be with him. All because fear and misunderstanding kept both of us silent to what we really wanted.

  Don’t give up on me, Caden. I’m out here. Can you feel I’m still alive?

  The memories of him drove me forward. I made it to the restroom, grabbing my kit out of my locker.

  “Well, well.” A voice stilled my movements. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you today.”

  Fuck me. Tess, Mio, and Dee grouped around me, their arms folded, faces wrinkled with abhorrence. Perhaps they didn’t like that after it had taken three of them to take me down, I still got up the next day.

  “I knew you’d miss me too much,” I cooed, trying to keep my smile from turning into a grimace. Even speaking was agonizing. “Girls night was fun, wasn’t it? I really feel we bonded.”

  Tess, the blonde leader, shifted her feet, her expression tightening, her nose taped from where my boot struck her. “Shut the fuck up, fish,” she hissed, her crew moving in closer to her. “We went light on you. Make no mistake; we won’t again.”

  “Ohhhh.” A voice emerged beside me. “I enjoy it rough.”

  The trio’s heads jerked to the figure at my side. Kek leaned her arm on my shoulder like we were chums.

  “Oh, you weren’t talking to me? How embarrassing.” She grinned at them, showing her teeth.

  “This has nothing to do with you, demon.” Tess’s voice softened, her bully pose deflating before my eyes.

  “See, that’s the thing.” Kek’s fingers brushed knotted strands from my face. “I kind of have a thing for this one. What happens to her is my business.” Her eyebrows lifted.

  She’d laid a challenge at their feet.

  Tess grappled for a response, as though not wanting to show her limitation, but she also understood she couldn’t fight a demon.

  “Walk away,” Kek ordered, moving her arm off me, standing straight. “Touch my girl again, and you deal with me.”

  Tess’s jaw began to twitch as though with fury, nose flaring, but she finally stepped back.

  “Whatever…like she’s worth anything.” She turned, motioning for her girls to follow.

  Kek laughed lowly, patting my shoulder. “What a bunch of toothless cunts.”

  I stared at the floor.

  “You’re welcome, by the way.” Kek leaned back, her hands going to her hips. “Looks as if I saved your ass from another beating. I mean, what the fuck? You were in bad shape when I left you last night. Did you actively go seek another fight?”

  Slowly, I turned to her. Staring.

  “What?”

  “I don’t need your help. I am not a defenseless little lamb.”

  “I can sense that. Believe me, I do not get any kind of weak vibe off you, which is why she had to challenge you with her buddies.” She leaned her weight on one foot. “But right now, you are not in the best condition. I don’t think you could have taken another beating. You can’t see yourself, but yeesh.” She cringed, motioning around my face and down my hunched figure.

  If I looked half as bad as I felt on the inside, the outside must have been a horror show.

  I studied Kek for a moment. Was I exchanging one bully for another one?

  “Why are you protecting me? What’s in this for you?” The skin of my lip split at the tiny tug of my sneer. “You want me as your bitch? Is that it? Jump on the fresh meat, forcing me to become indebted to you?”

  Kek folded her arms, tilting her head.

  “Sexual favors? Slave? What is it?”

  “I’m not against either one.” A grin hinted on her mouth. “But it’s not why.”

  “Then why?”

  Her eyes slid to the side, her shoulders rolling back. “I guess I just like you.”

  “Like me?” I huffed. “You don’t even know me.”

  “You seem cool.” She shrugged a shoulder, not looking at me. “I don’t have a lot of friends here.”

  “And you thought we could be friends?” I turned fully to face her. “A human and a demon?”

  Her blue eyes snapped to me.

  “If you haven’t noticed, the normal rules don’t apply in here. Outside these walls, we might hate each other, try to kill the other, but in here, survival comes first. Not species.”

  Trust was fragile, and I wanted to keep my walls up, but for some reason, I believed her. “Tad mentioned the other demons don’t like you. Why?”

  A knowing smile pursed her lips. “Seeing if I’m a smart association to have?”

  “As you said…it’s about survival in here.”

  She chuckled, bobbing her head. “Fuck, I like you, little lamb.”

  “So?”

  “I find them tedious and boring.” Her eyes leveled with mine. “All they talk about is the good ol’ days. Lounging around resembling pampered royalty, living off the fear our kind can cause on the outside. They forget we are impotent in here.”

  My lids narrowed.

  “And I don’t like them.” Her arms went out. “Demons don’t usually tolerate each other. We don’t hang out in clubs or enjoy being around each other. We’re territorial with large egos. Here, all the rules are bent, forcing us together like a band that hates each other but still has to perform together. We aren’t a pack kind of species. We want to be the lone wolves. Leaders.”

  “Way too many metaphors in your explanation.”

  “See?” She gestured to me. “You have some sass. They are dull as shit.”

  “But why don’t they like you?”

  “Because I don’t care about reminiscing the old days before the wall fell. It’s gone. Get over it. I’m an in-the-present kind of girl. Plus, I tell them they are dull as shit and cunts.” She gripped the ends of her braid. “Not really a people person.”

  Yeah. Me neither.

  “Don
’t worry; I won’t sit with you at lunch or anything. I have appearances to keep up as well.” She rolled her eyes as she traveled to the toilets. “And the sexual favors…they will only be once a week.” She winked over her shoulder.

  “Kek.”

  “Kidding.” She laughed. “Though once you go demon…”

  Hobbling after her, I didn’t even hesitate a moment to use the toilet. Funny how fast your standards dropped away when survival becomes your number one priority.

  Chapter 15

  If food fell on the floor in the Markos’ dining room, the idea of picking it up and eating it would be scandalous. Uncivilized. Here, hunger had made me do just that at breakfast. Even beat up, I was about to cut an asshole for toast.

  All I got was a half-eaten slice of bread and lukewarm coffee, but it was a win in my book. Rodriguez, recently off his victory, took most of the food for himself and his fellow shape-shifting group.

  “You want to talk about it?” Tad took a sip of his coffee, his slice of toast sitting in front of him, untouched.

  Nibbling on mine, I sucked down coffee to soften the dry bread sticking in my throat. I needed nutrients, but it tasted like shit, and my stomach was dicey at best. Though the food here was utterly tasteless and too bland to upset anyone’s stomach.

  “Not really.” I shifted on the stool uncomfortably, every muscle and nerve crying out for painkillers.

  “Will you retaliate?”

  “Yes.” I snarled. That bitch stole my blankie.

  I used to have trunks stuffed with blankets. Faux fur, silk, cashmere—all of them so soft you melted into them. I never thought twice about the mounds of comforters, pillows, and blankets piled on my bed. Now the possessiveness I felt for a scratchy, smelly blanket should have frightened me. When you had nothing, those items you did have were treasures, and someone stealing them from you was the ultimate crime.

  Tess and her gang would find out soon what a bad idea it had been to take stuff from me.

  “You look like hell.”

  “So I’ve been told.” I chewed down the rest of my meal. “You two are making me feel so good about myself.”

  “Two?”

  “Kek.” I rubbed my head, a deeper pounding thumping at my skull.

  At Tad’s silence, I looked up at him.

  “What?”

  “Just be careful.” His lips pressed together, his gaze drifting over to the demon table where I knew she sat. Three words and he validated my suspicion about why a demon had latched on to me. And not for sexual favors or a prison pet.

  “I am.” I brushed my hands free of crumbs and pushed myself up to stand, though it took a couple tries.

  “You sound like me.” Tad chuckled as I keened and hissed getting to my feet, wrapping my arm around my torso. “Moaning and groaning over there.”

  “At least I will heal, old man.”

  “Keep that fire, girl. You will need it here.” He winked at me, laughing.

  Biting my lip, I grabbed my empty coffee cup. I knew it would take me longer than usual to get to the laundry room and did not want to chance being late.

  “Here.” He shoved his toast to me. “You need it more than me.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You need to eat. You’re old and decrepit, remember?”

  “Exactly. It’s wasted on me.” The youthful glint in his eyes suggested he was far from his deathbed. “Just take it. Someday I might need kindness from you.” He dipped his head at the bread. “Take it.”

  Cautious, I took his offering, giving him a nod of thanks. Then I limped across the cafeteria and dumped my cup in the bin.

  Something changed in the room, like fog rolling over a mountain, licking your skin with its presence. My arms prickled with the sensation, the hairs standing on end. It was also when I noticed the early morning murmur had gone quiet. The room was holding its breath.

  My heart thumped at a rabbit’s pulse. Slower than normal, I twisted around, my body shrieking in response. But just as fast as the pain struck my nerves, it vanished. As if the figure before me was emanating a sedative, taking away all my discomfort.

  I was eye level with a black shirt, the chest underneath massive, forcing me to crane back to look up at the beast of the man. My throat strangled the air in my lungs.

  Holy shit. Warwick Farkas.

  To be this close to a legend. An icon. My brain struggled to recognize that he was real.

  He stood less than five inches away, staring down at me, his intense aqua eyes even more unnerving this close. His weighty gaze rolled over me with curiosity as his head slanted to the side, a touch of disgust creased his brow.

  He probably saw me as no more than a bug pinned to a board.

  I didn’t back away, holding my chin up, swallowing audibly.

  His attention trailed down the lash mark on my face, the swollen eye, and halted on my broken lip. Flames flared down my back in a burst, licking my skin with perspiration. I swiped my tongue nervously over my lower lip. A crease appeared between his eyebrows before he journeyed down to the dried bloodstain on my uniform, how I still cradled my wound, and the bruises and cuts over my exposed skin.

  Then without warning or verdict of his findings, he brushed past me, his arm grazing my skin, sending an electric shock through my body. I gasped for breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. Shivering, my shoulders relaxed as if his gaze had been a palpable weight on me.

  What the fuck was that?

  I surveyed the room, seeing if the encounter held their focus. Every pair of eyes were on me. They were slack-jawed and silent. Assessing and curious. But also angry, as if me getting his attention affronted them somehow.

  Feeling the impact of their wonder, I swiveled around, ignoring my pain, which had returned with a vengeance, and hobbled out of the room as fast as I could.

  Not far from the laundry room, I heard a soft voice, “What did I say?” Lynx stepped out of the shadows, and I jolted with her appearance.

  “Fuck, Lynx.” I cringed, everything in me revolting at the sudden movement. “Warn a girl.”

  “Why?” Her black eyes didn’t blink. “I want to disappear into the shadows. Not be seen until it’s too late.”

  “Good job then.”

  “I warned you. Danger and violence like you,” she said softly, melancholy weaving through her words like a song. “I fear there is no going back now.”

  “What are you talking about?” I resumed walking, the laundry facility in sight. “Don’t tell me you’re clairvoyant or something. Do those powers still work in here?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” She matched my slow steps. “It’s not hard to see you just invited the worst sort of trouble in. His attention on you is not good for you.”

  Warwick.

  “I didn’t really have a choice. He was kind of there. In my way.”

  “He’s never done that. No one has ever drawn any bit of his notice. Not even the ones he kills.”

  Her statement wrapped around my throat like a noose. “Again, not something I could control.” I brushed it off with a shrug.

  “True or not, you have opened the door for trouble. Good or bad, he put a bullseye on your back without saying a word, and you can’t die,” she said nonchalantly, strolling into the room and to her workstation.

  Confused by her last statement, I rubbed my forehead. She was right about one thing. By looking at me, Warwick had marked me. Many would try to figure out what had captured his interest in me, even as brief as it was.

  This kind of attention was not a good thing. The others would want to find out what had caused the notorious Warwick Farkas to pause.

  And then they would try to destroy it.

  Over the next week, fellow inmates circled me like sharks trying to figure out the piece of meat in the water. I felt eyes on me from every angle.

  Except his.

  Warwick had gone back to acting as if I didn’t exist, which I thought would ebb the curiosity. It didn’t.


  The first full week of my incarceration had been hell. By day I pretended I wasn’t terrified, homesick, and utterly hopeless. By night I curled up in a ball, crying silently on the cold hard ground.

  Daily assaults tore at my psyche: the smell of the relieving hole only steps from where I laid my head, sleeping on packed earth like some animal, and being left in the same bloody, grimy clothes. I knew I smelled bad, but mine was a drop in the sea of stench.

  Torture and terror stripped away at my sense of self. I felt primal. My mind slipped from reality and what I used to understand as normal. I had lost weight from stress and the lack of food. Even in sleep, my body never fully let go of the tension, and constant screams and guttural sobs woke me throughout the night, as well as my own nightmares.

  I looked forward to sleep, though, because it brought dreams of Caden—feeling warm and restful. Though it hurt like a bitch when I woke up realizing where I was and that I would never see him again. Most likely, he thought I was dead. The “what ifs” of our story were punishment enough, but everything here was set to break you, even your own mind.

  There were times death sounded like a dream. One you were glad to not wake from.

  “Level 13!” A deep female voice boomed right as the door to my cell slid open, jolting my head up. “Shower day.”

  Movement stirred on my level as sleepy prisoners in all colors of uniforms strolled by. Pushing myself up, I joined the zombie train, stumbling toward the washroom.

  I’d accepted my lack of privacy to some degree, but showering in front of all these people was another slash at my comfort. At my sense of safety. How arrogantly I had acted at HDF, thinking I was so bold and comfortable with my body around others. I had been with my small safe group of friends.

  “Come on,” the same guard yelled. “You know the drill. Undress. Clean. And get out for the next. No funny business.”

  A few guards were stationed around the room, not hiding their glee at watching the prisoners disrobe. A giant laundry cart sat near the open showers along the wall, ones I’d be washing and mending later. A table was set up with clean uniforms, underwear, and towels with your number on display on the top of the pile.