by Lizzy Ford
"Yeah?"
"Don’t stick your hands outside the cage."
"I have no intention of doing so."
"Rhyn might grab one and pull you out. You’d be cut into pieces by the bars, and then no one would get their snack," he continued.
"Yeah, real shame, shithead," she retorted, feeling more ill by the second.
He laughed. "What’re you doing here, Lunchmeat? Humans don’t come here unless they’re dead, and even then, only a couple make it onto our supermax zoo."
"No idea."
"Why aren’t you crying, little girl?" the beast, Rhyn, asked in his gravelly, low voice.
"Maybe she’s a spy," a voice farther down the hall called. "Here to listen to our secrets."
"I’m not a spy."
"Wouldn’t matter if you were," Jared said, unconcerned. "The beast is right. You’re holding up well. Maybe when they start the torture, she’ll cry. Then she’ll negotiate on that no-pain thing."
"How I ache to be there," another voice moaned.
"You taste as sweet as you look, little girl?" Rhyn mocked.
"Like soggy gym socks," she snapped.
"I like you, Lunchmeat," Jared continued. "Will be a shame when they break you. Or when one of us gets loose and kills you. Not sure what’ll come first, though Rhyn there has almost broken through his cage twice now."
Supermax, inhuman predator wing of the zoo. Torture.
It figured. Her heart was beating fast, her palms sweaty. She returned to her bunk and lay down on her stomach facing the hallway, cold fear filling her. She stared at the silver eyes staring at her, slowly falling into an exhausted, restless slumber.
The sounds of Rhyn slamming his body into his cell and snarling awoke her sometime later. Lankha was huddled in a corner, but she rolled to watch. She popped one of the water cubes into her mouth, head pulsing from a nasty hangover.
Rhyn had bent his cage again. Though she tried hard not to fear death, she wondered what kind of creature was capable of breaking through bars made of materials she’d never before seen and held in place with some sort of magic. She wanted to see what the beast looked like, what kind of monster he’d be, yet knew if she saw him in full light, he was on his way to kill her.
The robed man came again and repaired the damage. Rhyn fell quiet, and the robed man turned to her. His eyes were black and empty, his frame small and wiry. He wore a glowing talisman on a leather chain around his neck.
"Hey Lunchmeat," Jared called.
"Yeah."
"If you take the amulet, no pain, guaranteed."
Her eyes dropped to the talisman around the robed man’s neck. The robed man sent what looked like a lightning bolt down the hall. Jared cursed.
"Come with me," the robed man ordered her.
The bars of her cell dissipated at his command, and she stepped into the hall. A narrow, lit walkway extended all the way down the corridor, the only part of the hall out of reach of the arms of the prisoners on either side.
He led her toward Jared’s direction. The pale man was tall and lean, and he hung his hands again through the bars of his cell. He winked as she passed and licked his lips.
"Nice ass. Wouldn’t mind a bite of that."
She ignored him and crossed her arms. Some of the cells were black like Rhyn’s, some with bars, and others with glass. Some appeared empty while others…she stopped looking when she saw the fanged moth man. The predators were silent, watching their lunch parade by them.
She trailed the robed man through two doors and into a hot, dry night. He led her through a fortress too ancient for her to date, its blackened walls and well-worn stones massive and thick. There were two moons in this realm, one full and the other a sliver.
The robed man led her into the fortress and wound his way through bright intersections, down stairs, and into a more opulent part of the building. The halls grew wider, and the stone turned to carpet beneath her sore feet. She was surprised she could walk at all and knew a few ounces of blood had been a small price to pay for Lankha’s work, which she’d never have gotten for all the money in the world at home.
She nearly leapt past her escort when he entered the banquet hall, the scents of roasted meat and a million other things making her stomach roar.
Until she saw the spit with the human-like body roasting above it. She stared, knowing no amount of counseling would fix her when this was over.
"My lord, Sasha, I have brought the human," her robed escort said in a monotone voice.
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect."
The robed man bowed and retreated to the door. She turned as the man called Sasha lifted one of her curls from her shoulder. He was a lean man with gleaming silver-blue eyes, teeth filed into points, and an aura so cold she stepped away.
"Like a doll," Sasha said, admiring her. "So full of life. Perfect."
"I told you, Sasha," a familiar voice said.
Katie looked past him, gasping. Jade stood near the spit, dark eyes blazing.
"And you were right," Sasha replied. "Now go, my love, before they notice you're gone."
Jade's glare stayed on her as he hesitated. Sasha turned to him with a smile, and Jade's gaze softened. He bowed his head and left her alone with the madman. Sasha faced her. Katie took another step back, the stillness of his gaze unsettling.
"I’ve been waiting for a long time to claim you. We knew you’d appear eventually."
He motioned to a seat at the table loaded with food she feared eating. The seat was at his left, and he waited until she accepted before sitting. There was already food on her plate--meat from an unnamed source, vegetables, bread.
"I know you’re hungry," he said.
She was starving. She took the roll and bit into it, surprised to find it tasted perfect. She ate the whole basketful while he watched. When he motioned to the meat, she looked toward the spit and then lied.
"I’m vegetarian."
He ate nothing. When her stomach was full, she allowed herself to look at him. His eyes gleamed. He took her wrist and raised his pinkie, where she saw the nail had been filed to a point and reinforced with metal. Before she could draw her wrist away, he pierced it. The pain surprised her after Lankha’s gentle ministrations. The creature twisted her wrist and squeezed, capturing her blood in a small vial. The robed man who had led her to the hall strode forward and took the vial, then backed away silently.
"Verifying your identity," Sasha said with a polite smile.
"What do you want with me?"
"You know what. Your blood is rare. It can lead us to victory."
"You’re the bad guys," she said with a frown.
"We serve a different master."
He said nothing more, as if unwilling to say more until the identity verification was done. Still hungry, she ventured to try the vegetables. The broccoli tasted normal, and she ate all of them. She looked up at Sasha, her heart hammering under his hungry look.
The robed man returned and spoke in the harsh tongue. A look of satisfaction spread over the face of the creature before her. He gripped her wrist hard, lowering his head. She wrenched away. His reflexes were like Kris’s, too fast to follow. He snatched her neck and rose, jerking her off the chair. Her air supply cut off, she tore at the hand holding her until the skin on his arm fell away to reveal smooth, black skin more akin to a reptile’s than a human’s. When the world narrowed, he released her. She fell, gasping for air.
"I want you alive, but I don’t care how much you suffer. You will find I’m a reasonable…man. I offered you the easy way, you refused. Now that choice is forever gone. You are stuck with a way less comfortable for you. You’re in complete control of how much I hurt you."
His calm words terrified her. She rubbed her neck, sensing the evil and determination in his tone. He paused a moment for the words to sink in. She caught her breath and waited. When he reached for her, she flinched but didn’t fight him. He pulled her up and gripped her neck, pushing her head aside to expose the vulner
able skin.
She closed her eyes, telling herself she’d survive this and figure out how to get the hell out of there, even if it meant bartering with the monsters on her cell block. Her resolve to grit her teeth and bear it lasted until the pain.
He tore into her neck, and agony seared straight through her.
Rhyn's impotent frustration subsided some when they returned the human. He didn't know if Sasha would recognize her for what she was, or if only the immortal meant to mate with her would see.
She came back in the same shape as when she arrived: bloodied beyond recognition. He was surprised she came back at all--Sasha had no mercy and rarely left his victims alive.
Unless he wanted her for something else. What would Sasha want with her? What was her gift?
He slapped the wall of his cell, cursing Death again for not freeing him. He couldn't protect anyone from Sasha in Hell, and he itched to taste the woman meant to be his mate.
The robed man dropped her body on the bed, sealed the cage, and turned to Rhyn.
"Your master will see you now," he said.
Rhyn growled at the robed man, who hurried away. Sasha's servants wouldn't get within a foot of Rhyn; instead, they shaped the magic of Sasha's realm around him and gave him only one direction to go, that which Sasha wanted.
"Ooh, come out as something different!" Jared exclaimed.
He'd amused them and himself by emerging each time in some other shape. Today, however, he was more interested in seeing Sasha and hearing about the human than amusing the zoo creatures. He waited for the barrier before him to lift and then strode out.
"A half-breed! Worst one yet!" Jared exclaimed, hanging his hands through the bars in his cell.
"Fuck off, demon," Rhyn growled.
He made his way through the castle with the black stones as he had many times during his long stay. The twin moons of the outer banks of Hell were bright. It was always dark here, and the moons rose and set each day instead of a sun. The fresh air was welcome after the musty scents of prison. He found some of his wired energy dissipating at the long walk and change of scenery despite knowing nothing good had ever come from a meeting with Sasha.
Sasha was waiting for him in his study, sitting beside a fireplace that burned with black flames. Blood had dripped down his face to speckle his shirt. His silver-blue eyes glowed with no warmth as he smiled.
"Time for our periodic chat, little brother," he said, and motioned to the other chair before the hearth.
Rhyn refused it and threw himself onto the comfy couch farther away from Hell's flames.
"How are all my pets?" Sasha asked.
"You know how they are, fuckhead."
"Another month and you're still defiant."
Normally, it was as far as they got before Sasha flew off the handle, had him tortured, and threw him back into his cell. Rhyn waited for it, determined to put up the same fight he always did.
It didn't come. Sasha was calm. In fact, Sasha was happy!
Rhyn sat up, eyeing his brother warily. Sasha sipped blood from a goblet, content.
"I've decided to take a mate," Sasha said.
Rhyn laughed, thoughts flying to the spunky human in the zoo. Sasha glared at him.
"You, brother, will take a mate?" Rhyn goaded. "It's the human you threw in the cell across from me, isn't it?"
"She's beautiful and she's an immortal's mate."
"Beautiful? No. Not ugly, yeah. Our family has no luck with immortal mates. Traitorous bitches, all of them."
"Sounds like brotherly concern," Sasha mocked. "You know, if you hadn't joined our family, I wouldn't be here, and Father would still be alive. You think I want to be in Hell at the side of the Dark One?" Sasha flung his arm around.
Rhyn rolled his eyes and got up, grabbing an orange off the fruit basket on Sasha's desk. Sasha's moods were varied and fickle, never lasting too long. Of all the brothers, he'd always been the one to begrudge Andre's role as their leader.
"As long as I keep her out of your reach, so you don't kill this one, too," Sasha added.
"If she's yours, I'll kill her faster." Even as Rhyn spoke, he was disturbed by the thought of the frazzled but sweet woman across the hall from him falling to his brother. She was a smartass worthy of any of his brothers, and yet, no human deserved this.
Especially not the immortal mate meant for him.
His gaze took in Sasha before sliding to the black flames. He'd forgotten what color real fire was, but he found himself thinking it was orange, like the fruit in the basket on Sasha's desk. Sasha was staring into the fire, pensive.
"She's different," Sasha muttered. "Easy to break. Still human."
"What's her gift?"
"Fuck off, Rhyn. Who would you rather see her with, Kris or me? Kris must be livid I've stolen her from him."
"She's better off dead," Rhyn replied.
He wanted to keep Sasha talking, to find out what it was about this woman that was so special that both Sasha and Kris wanted her. And to spend more time outside his cell. He'd long since stopped trying to escape, knowing the magic of Hell and the Dark One was too old for him to break. He'd still rather be humoring Sasha and eating his oranges than sitting in the damned cell!
"You don't seem too thrilled yourself," he added.
"The timing is bad," Sasha said with a glance. "I may need something of you soon."
"You know I'll refuse."
"We'll see," was the growled response. "I do have news for you."
"I don't give two--" Rhyn started.
"Andre is dead-dead."
Rhyn fell silent. The only brother who'd accepted him and treated him half decently was gone?
"Thought that might mean something to you," Sasha said, searching his face. "I guess not. Maybe I've succeeded in breaking you after all."
"Never, fuckhead."
"Without your protector, you'll never be welcomed at the Council."
"I never was," Rhyn growled. "One of you was always trying to kill me."
"And now you've got no one to protect you. You've got nothing, Rhyn, but a place by my side. Think about it."
"Done. No," Rhyn said without hesitation.
"Get the fuck back to your cell."
Sasha left, pissed this time. Rhyn watched him, even more curious after the odd interaction. Sasha had told him many things before to try to break him, but this time, he sensed the truth behind the words.
Andre was gone. He felt heaviness sink to the pit of his stomach, and regret trickled through him.
Of all the brothers, Andre had been the only who believed in him. The eldest and wisest had found him when he was a child, wandering the immortal world, alone. Andre had raised him as much as anyone, sponsored his petition to be recognized by the immortals, cleaned up all the messes he'd never meant to make.
Regret turned to sorrow, and Rhyn gazed around him. Whatever killed Andre would never have succeeded if he weren’t trapped here!
He snatched two more oranges before the magic constrained his movement. He took his time going back to the cell block.
Sasha was not a hard creature to understand. This time, Rhyn couldn't figure out why the creature wanted a human so badly he'd bring her here yet didn't seem eager about her becoming his mate.
He retreated to his cell and sat against the wall again, troubled by a familiar feeling of helplessness.
He could've saved Andre. He had the magic, the strength.
He simply didn't have the control. His brothers didn't hate him just because of his lineage. They hated him because he couldn't focus his magic. It came out when it wanted in what form it wanted.
They'd always said he was a danger to the human world because of this. In the darkness of his cell, he admitted this was true, but he also knew no one could've saved his brother but him.
He hated Kris even more. Fury and sadness made him loosen control of his magic. He didn't care that Hell would suck him dry.
He slammed himself against the cell walls, roar
ing.
"Still alive, Lunchmeat?"
She never thought she’d want to hear the monster’s voice. Her world was one of agony and blurred colors. Someone had dumped her into a heap in her cell, and she felt Lankha’s cool, fuzzy hands.
"He took too much," the healer chided.
She smelled her own blood. It covered her by the time Sasha had finished his sick games with her. Her heartbeat was shallow and fast; her head felt like it was in a clamp. He’d forced her to stay awake through it all despite her fainting spells, tearing open her veins and feeding until she was too weak to fight him.
He wanted her to fight him, to ratchet up the levels of agony. He got off on it as he dry humped her and sucked her life from her.
Rhyn made a racket in his cell. She wished, prayed he got free and ended her.
Lankha’s cool magic worked quickly. He took away her pain first then shoved a water cube between her lips. It melted in her mouth and ran down her throat, soothing it after her screams had rendered it raw. The healer’s soft hands took away her headache, then the throbbing in her neck, and worked on the other parts of her body until she felt whole again.
She was too weak to move. He gently removed the blood-soaked jumper and cleaned her. His touch was so soothing and cool, she vowed to give him whatever blood he wanted for taking away such pain. He tugged on another jumper and then lifted her onto the bed with strength that seemed at odds with his small form.
Still, she couldn’t sleep. She relived the bloody scene in the banquet hall, heard the creature panting her name as he came against her thigh and then tore through the other side of her neck. He’d spent hours on her, disabling her and then hurting her.
Lankha shoved another cube in her mouth, then a third. They melted and trickled down her throat. They weren’t water cubes; they tasted of nothing she could identify. They were metallic and sugary. He smoothed out her hair and finally rested a feathery hand on her eyes, easing her into a restless sleep that didn’t last long enough.
It felt like mere seconds later when she opened her eyes but guessed it’d been much longer. Her body was weak but working, and there were more of the odd sugar cubes beside her pillow. Lankha was asleep above, and the clamoring of the cell block was gone. She rubbed her head, shaking despite the rest. She ate two more of the sugar cubes and a water cube, eyes lingering on the bloody mess that was her jumper in the corner.