by J. N. Colon
My head smacked into the leather cushions. “Feed? On what?”
“That’s enough, Revnick,” Jocelyn said, closing the window and continuing to a large gate as it slowly opened. “I’m sure Ms. Warren will learn more about Fae soon enough.”
A massive brick and concrete sign came into view, and air clogged my throat. Wayward Fae Penitentiary.
Sweat collected on the back of my neck while my future as an inmate solidified right before my eyes. The moment I stepped out of this car, I’d be a prisoner.
I’d been a prisoner, in one shape or form my entire life, but as of now, prisoner wasn’t all that could be tacked onto my name. I was a killer now. And a hired assassin.
The man sitting across the large desk appeared to be in his thirties, but the way he held himself—with an easy confidence and self-assuredness—told me he’d been in this world a lot longer. His expression wasn’t unkind. It was just knowing, wise even.
“Well, Ms. Warren, I must say this is a rare case indeed.” He closed my file, laying his hands on top of the folder. “It’s unusual for a Fae of your caliber to have grown up completely ignorant of our world.”
My brow arched. “My caliber?”
He nodded, his sleek silver strands of hair glinting in the soft light like polished metal. “According to this, your powers are quite strong. You should have had them since childhood, but they laid dormant. That’s very unusual.” Warden Balfour flicked open a laptop and began typing away. I expected ancient scrolls and feathered quills. “This is a minimum-security prison, but you are a high-risk inmate.” His head tilted toward the silver circlet on my wrist. “You must wear that.”
My fingers traced the carvings on the metal. “What does this do?”
“It keeps your magic contained. You cannot access it with the goblin-made cuff.”
Goblin? Holy shit. Did they look like those creatures in Harry Potter?
“Only high-risk prisoners are forced to wear those,” Warden Balfour continued without noticing my wandering thoughts, “or prisoners who have been caught abusing their powers or other privileges.”
That would put a dent in the queen’s plan. How could I kill her brother without magic? “Will I ever be able to get it off?”
“It’s possible, with good behavior.” His lips puckered as he stared at the computer screen. “You will need to learn to control your power if you are to be rehabilitated back into society, either Earth or the Otherworld.”
If and when I got out of here, what would I do? Live on the streets? I had nowhere to go.
“What about those other handcuffs?” I shivered at the thought of having those clamped around my wrists again. “The ones that made me sick?”
“Ah, iron restraints.” He grimaced and shook his head. “We try to avoid using those unless absolutely necessary. The iron is poisonous to all Fae. Long periods of exposure can be quite terrible.” He circled his hand around. “There is no iron in the prison except the cuffs, which are kept locked away, and in the hole.”
My insides dropped like I was on a falling elevator. “The hole?”
Warden Balfour gave a grim nod. “Solitary confinement. The walls of the cell are constructed from iron. It’s not a pleasant place to wind up. I encourage you to follow the rules so you never have to experience that.”
His words weren’t meant as a threat. He truly didn’t want me to visit the iron hole.
“Why didn’t iron affect me before now?” I’d never felt any kind of sickness or weakness around it.
“I’m not sure. Perhaps it has something to do with your powers remaining dormant. Maybe releasing them in turn opened your body to Fae weaknesses.” The printer behind him hummed and spit out a few sheets of paper. The warden grabbed them, stacking them on his desk before handing me one. “This is your schedule for now. It’s just a vague structure. Once you’re settled, you’ll receive a more detailed agenda. Have a look and let me know if you have questions.”
I read through the list.
Wake up.
Roll call.
Breakfast.
Work.
Lunch.
School.
Physical activities.
Leisure time.
Dinner.
Study time or Work.
Leisure time.
Roll call.
Lights out.
One thing caught my eye immediately. “School?”
“Fae convicted of crimes at sixteen and older can be sent here, male and female,” the warden said, “but any inmate under the age of eighteen has mandatory schooling. Once you reach eighteen, if you’d like to continue with independent studies, you can.”
My lips thinned. I hated school.
“This is a list of specific rules.” He handed over another piece of paper.
The usual suspects riddled the page. No fighting. No stealing from other inmates or guards. No trading job duties. A few things were missing, though. “What about no fraternizing with the opposite sex?” That had been one of the biggest rules at the group homes—and the most broken.
Warden Balfour stapled his fingers together, tapping them as he hesitated. “We’re not human, Ms. Warren. We do not have the same rules. Fae are also…” His bottom lips snagged between his teeth as he attempted to find the correct words. “As a species, we are very sexual creatures.”
A funny sound escaped my mouth, like a snort and a cough all mixed into one. “Seriously?” Apparently, I skipped that genetic trait. Not that I didn’t appreciate the opposite sex and I’d had a few normal experiences with guys, but I didn’t fantasize about doing the horizontal tango all the time.
Warden Balfour shrugged. “Since you were raised human, you may not understand yet. Given time, I’m sure you will.”
Doubtful.
“We don’t separate male from female in the cellblocks,” he continued, thumbing through the stack of papers. “A lot of Fae do not discriminate anyway.”
Sweat beaded my nape. What the hell kind of place was this? Would I be locked up with a bunch of sex fiends? I’d met my fair share of disgusting creeps, but I didn’t expect to be surrounded by them day and night with no way out.
Warden Balfour seemed to sense my impending panic. “Don’t worry about anything unwelcome. The inmates are aware that incidents of that nature are punishable by something worse than even time in the iron hole.” His voice had deepened and an eerie glow lit his eyes, two blue orbs that could have been mistaken for an early morning sky in the summer. Power suddenly radiated off the warden.
I believed him. And punishment would be swift, but he couldn’t know everything that happened in the prison.
“You’ll also notice the majority of Fae here appear no older than early thirties.” His gentle demeanor returned. “We don’t age the same as humans. Once Fae reach twenty-two, the aging process slows significantly.”
“How old are you?”
The edges of his lips lifted, spreading faint crinkles around his eyes. “Much older than you.”
I was beginning to think he was the Fae equivalent of Dumbledore. The warden was like the headmaster of prison.
Warden Balfour cleared his throat, bringing me out of my Harry Pottery thoughts. “The living quarters have been divided by light and dark Fae. You have been placed with the dark.”
“Am I a dark Fae?” No one had given me a clear answer. The queen just said I was special.
“Ah, well, sort of.” He grabbed the rest of my papers and passed them to me. “I think you will feel more comfortable with dark Fae.” Warden Balfour picked up his desk phone. “Please send in Officer Garrett to escort Ms. Warren to her cell.”
The word cell sent goose bumps across my skin. The door opened, and I expected some older overweight creep that reeked of B.O. and onions. A permanent leer would be stuck to his greasy face.
But the guard that walked in was the complete opposite. He looked barely older than me with short, wheat-colored hair formed into a fauxhawk and a trim, mu
scular body beneath the navy and silver uniform.
Well, damn. Maybe I could understand this whole sexual Fae thing if guys like him walked around the prison.
“Ms. Warren, this is Officer Garrett.” The warden stood and came around his desk. “Officer Garrett, I trust you can see our newest inmate to her cell.”
He gave a polite smile, one that wasn’t peppered with lies. “Of course, sir.”
The warden held his hand out for me to shake. “Welcome to Wayward Fae Penitentiary. I hope I can count on you to be a well-behaved addition.”
I’d behave as long as no one got in the way of my mission to assassinate the unseelie prince.
Chapter 5
I stood inside a room much bigger than I’d pictured, and the standard, creaky metal bunk bed was a no-show as well. Instead, two small beds lined opposite cinderblock walls, a few rows of drawers resting beneath each. A plain desk with a chair sat against the other wall.
“The bathroom is there.” Officer Garrett pointed to an accordion door.
My mouth formed a little circle. “There’s a bathroom?”
“A toilet and sink.” He shrugged. “The showers are down the hall.”
Still, better than having a toilet out for all to see.
“This is your uniform.” He pointed to a stack of folded bland gray and white clothes on the bed toward the left. “You’ll find more in the drawers, along with socks and underwear.”
Wow. He didn’t even make a disgusting gesture while referring to my underwear. How nice.
“Shoes are over there.”
A pair of nondescript black boots were tucked into the corner. I turned back around, catching Officer Garrett staring.
He quickly glanced away and reached over to pull out a partition hidden in the wall. “You can slide this over the bars for privacy to change. It shouldn’t be used after lights out, though.” He released it and then clasped his hands behind his back. “Your cellmate Kimber should be along soon. She’ll help you out.”
Kimber sounded like a girl's name. Good. I never asked if I’d have to bunk with a guy.
“Well, if it isn’t Officer Hot Pants.”
Officer Garrett jumped as someone smacked his ass. A voluptuous girl with vibrant rose gold hair brushing her shoulders slipped from behind him.
“Kimber, what did I tell you about that?” He didn’t look all that angry as he fought back a grin.
She winked and blew him a kiss. “Uh-oh. Are you going to have to punish me now?”
“Your new cellmate is here.” Officer Garrett jerked his chin toward me. “This is Sloane Warren.”
A wide smile broke across Kimber’s heart-shaped face as she sashayed in my direction, her brown eyes scrutinizing me up and down. “I hit the jackpot with you, girlfriend.”
My head snapped back. “I don’t get down with girls.”
A smoky laugh drifted out. “That’s a darn shame. I think we’d be hot together.” She slipped her arm through mine and faced the officer. “How about it, Officer G? Do we make a sexy couple?”
He pressed his tongue in his cheek trying to mask his smile. “I’m out of here.” He stepped into the hall and closed the barred gate. “Dinner’s already started. Make sure your cellmate gets some food.” He nodded toward me. “Nice meeting you, Sloane.”
Before I could respond, he disappeared, and I slipped out of Kimber’s grasp. “Shouldn’t he have locked the door?”
Kimber laughed again. “We aren’t normally locked in our cells during the day, babe.”
My jaw unhinged. I’d been stuck in group homes more strict than this.
“We’re on an honor system.” She stood in front of the mirror hanging above the sink and began fluffing her hair. “And there’s a magic word that’ll unlock the door after lights out. It changes often, but some of us are in the know.”
I folded down on the edge of my bed, noting the mattress wasn’t even as thin as I’d expected. “Are you in the know?”
“Of course.” She winked. “Right now, the word is unicorn.”
My lips pulled into a scowl. Was she screwing with me?
Kimber fluttered her fingers toward the clothes on my bed. “Hurry and get dressed. I’m starving.”
Would the unseelie prince be at dinner? I grabbed my clothes, glancing toward the hallway. Anyone could see me change if they walked by. “Can you close the partition?”
“Oh, Warden B told me you were raised with humans.” She slid it closed, cutting off the view of the hall. “Fae don’t really care about nudity.”
Well, I did.
“We really appreciate the naked form of every creature.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“You mind appreciating this form a little less?” I kicked off the flip flops the F.I.C. officers had given me. “What kind of Fae are you?”
She grabbed a lollipop from one of the drawers beneath her bed. “I’m a succubus.”
My fingers halted on my jeans. I’d heard the term before, but it couldn’t be the same thing. “And that is?”
“I’m a Fae who lives off the energy of others, sexual energy to be exact.” She stuck the lollipop in her mouth and winked. “But don’t worry, Sloane. I never feed off my cellmates. Not unless they ask.”
My cellmate lived off sex. What was next? A troll serving me dinner?
At least Kimber seemed nice. Maybe she’d help me with my little assassination problem, but I couldn’t just ask her to point me in the direction of the unseelie prince. That would look suspicious. I’d have to find Viktor Hale myself.
Kimber and I walked to the cafeteria, passing a few guards slowly patrolling the halls. We meandered into a large room encased in more drab gray cinderblocks. Metal stairs fed from the second level where several C.O.s stood watch at the balcony.
“Shouldn’t the chairs be nailed down?” I examined the round tables and free-standing plastic and metal chairs spotting the concrete floor.
Kimber scoffed. “Oh, honey, you’re so cute. We’re Fae. We don’t bother with tossing chairs at each other. We have magic.” She winked as one of her eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow. “And someone is more likely to throw a table than a chair.”
My head tilted toward the ground. Sure enough, the tables were bolted to the floor. I was beginning to think I’d underestimated my deal with the queen.
“I wish you would have let me fix you up.” Kimber tugged on my shirt. “These uniforms are so boring. They need a little spice.” She shimmied her hips.
My cellmate wore the same clothes as I did, but with some alterations. The gray pants had been tightened and lowered on her hips. The white tank top underneath was cut to reveal her midriff, and the button-down gray shirt with W.F.P. stitched on the left was tied into a knot in the center of her stomach.
Uh, yeah, I’m good.
I wore my clothes like a normal person, but Kimber refused to walk with me until I at least unbuttoned the top shirt. She called my rack awe-inspiring. The white tank top sure made the girls a star in this outfit.
“I’m not trying to stand out,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. A couple dozen Fae crowded the cafeteria, most of them appearing like normal humans. I caught sight of a few pointy ears. Were those elves or maybe pixies? Did anyone have wings? And the warden was right; none of the inmates looked older than thirty and that was pushing it.
“You’re going to stand out whether you like it or not.” Kimber applied another layer of lip gloss and shoved the tube in her bra.
It was then that several heads swiveled toward me, and a few people halted in their tracks as we passed. Elbows nudged sides to direct more attention my way. Heat crawled up my neck and into my face.
“Why is everyone staring at me?” I muttered under my breath.
A group of ethereal girls with long flowing hair every shade of the rainbow pranced by—literally pranced—until they spotted me. The four girls gasped and closed ranks, linking arms like I was evil incarnate about to devour their souls.
/> “Keep moving, pixie chicks,” Kimber flashed a menacing smile, “unless you’d like to be my bedtime snack.”
They squealed and darted away, glancing over their shoulders.
Kimber rolled her eyes. “Pixies are so dramatic.”
“Seriously, why is everyone looking at me?” I felt like a fish in a bowl.
“You’re fresh meat, Sloane.” She shrugged. “Of course they’re going to stare.”
My gaze drifted over the crowd, returning some of the stares with a hard one of my own. The first rule you learned living in a rough part of town was to never let them see fear. If they did, they’d pounce. They’d often still attack someone like me—small, female, and pretty—because they assumed I was an easy target.
They quickly realized I didn’t go down without a fight, though.
I’d calmed a bit since Jilly came into my life. I didn’t want to do something to get tossed into juvi for more than a few days or thrown into another home without her.
A hard glare burned the side of my face. I turned, fully prepared to unleash another mean sneer.
That didn’t happen. Instead, sand filled my mouth, and my knees grew weak. Literally.
A male Fae towered over the others surrounding him. His gray button-down shirt strained against a broad frame, and the rolled-up sleeves revealed tattoos crawling over his muscular arms. More ink peeked out from the collar around his neck.
A pair of icy silver eyes met mine, instantly stealing my ability to breathe, the air coming to a standstill in my lungs. I wouldn’t call him pretty. That word would disintegrate from the English language if used to describe him.
No. He was raw, manly energy that demanded you take notice. Sharp edges cut into his face, and a cruel twist parted his lips. He looked like he wanted to choke me right then and there in front of everyone. And he’d take pleasure in watching my life fade.
I shivered. The guy was utterly terrifying.
“You’re going to want to stay away from him.” Kimber’s voice broke the spell I’d been under, her chin resting on my shoulder. “That guy oozes sex, but even I’m smart enough to keep a safe distance.”