by J. N. Colon
The other Fae tracked my movements as I approached Viktor’s table like a horrific accident was fast approaching. He didn’t look up from the card game, but the tightening of his shoulders made it clear he knew I was there.
You can do this, Sloane. You have to do this.
I quickly glanced over the table, recognizing five-card draw. I’d hustled plenty of jerks during poker. The hardest part was always convincing them I’d won fair and square. “How much is the buy-in?” The queen had loaded my prison account with money. I could afford anything.
Everyone looked at Viktor like he was a mob boss. His gaze slowly raised, instantly shooting frostbite across my extremities.
“No.” The one word sharply sliced the air, directed at me like a dagger.
“No? The buy-in is no?” And here I thought I’d toned down my smart mouth.
A couple of gasps sounded around the room.
The cards in the unseelie prince’s hand began to bend from his tight grip. “No, you can’t play.” His voice was a rough, dangerous purr that did funny things to my insides.
I shoved my trembling fingers behind my back. “Why not? I have money and I know how to play.” I didn’t break the stare between us even though my knees wanted to buckle. “Too afraid I’ll win?”
That was the wrong thing to say. I realized this when I went airborne.
My body slammed into the brick wall with enough force to knock the wind from me. Black spots dotted my vision and ringing filled my ears, drowning out the ruckus unfolding in the common room. Viktor shot to his feet and marched toward me with his hand lifted in front of him.
It didn’t take a genius to realize he had been the one to toss me into the wall. Like the queen, he had elemental magic, air specifically. He still held me several feet from the ground. Clearly, he didn’t have one of those annoying goblin cuffs.
“Let’s get something straight, seelie-dae.” A menacing edge sliced his tone, turning that purr into a growl. “I run this place, and when I tell you no, I mean it.” With the flick of his hand, I dropped to my feet. “Got it?”
“Yep,” I wheezed, adjusting my shirt. “When you say jump, I say screw you.” Shit. I was supposed to be getting on his good side, getting him to trust me, not picking a fight.
The silver in his eyes darkened to gunmetal gray. They may as well have been the weapon from the way they made my body shake. He closed the distance between us, the space filling with his scent of fresh rain, citrus, and pine. It teased my senses and made my head spin.
“I have no problem wrapping my hand around your little neck and squeezing until your life drains out.” Viktor’s long, powerful fingers curled around my throat. His touch burned and made me want to disappear into the wall.
My pulse quickened as I waited for the pressure to start. I’d been choked before. I could hold my breath for a long time.
But the tightening never came. His fingers just rested there. A threat.
“Or I might just kill you in your sleep.” His teeth bared. This guy seemed wilder and more primal than the alpha shifter Faolan.
“What fun would that be?” I gritted out. “Then you’d miss all my screaming.”
His mouth thinned into a hard line as he studied me. “You have to be the dumbest Fae to ever cross my path.”
Probably true.
Viktor leaned forward, his entire body brushing the length of mine. He looked like ice and coal but felt like an inferno. “Your time at Wayward Fae Penitentiary is going to break you.”
A bitter laugh slipped out. “I’m already broken. You missed your chance a long time ago, Viktor Hale.”
His lips brushed my ear as he spoke his next words. “Being broken by me is a whole other beast.” Hot breath dusted my neck, and the air between us sweltered. “Get ready to reach a level of damaged you never thought possible, seelie-dae.”
Viktor pulled away so fast my body jerked forward. He sneered as he spun around and marched out of the door.
That went well.
I should have been terrified, any normal person would be, but I’d shed normal years ago. Viktor’s threat meant nothing. He had no idea I was damaged from top to bottom. I’d been through hell. The only thing that could break me was my sister suffering the same nightmare.
Chapter 7
Foamy suds flopped over the side of the bucket as I dragged the mop out again, slapping it on the tiles. The ropey strands slithered across the shower floor. Cleaning the bathrooms on my cellblock was my first work assignment.
I’d had worse. I stayed at a farm once.
Viktor Hale had practically skewered me with those icy eyes this morning in the cafeteria while the other inmates did the same. I was surprised Kimber still sat with me. I wouldn’t blame her for dropping me like the plague. No one else besides her and Barlow had even attempted a friendly smile. The animosity had rocketed since the encounter with Viktor yesterday.
The unseelie prince ran the prison, and I’d made not only Faolan my enemy but him too.
I shook my head, grinding my teeth. If I screwed up my chances of getting close to the prince, I’d never forgive myself. I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut and my smartass remarks to myself.
Last night, I woke up to Faolan and his beta Henrick trotting down the hall with a couple of girls in tow. Lights out had already been called, but they must have known the magic word to release the door locks.
Would that even work for me with this goblin cuff strapped to my wrist?
A group of fairies had also skipped by a few minutes later, quietly giggling. Something secret was going on elsewhere in the prison. Viktor was probably involved.
A sugary laugh bounced against the dingy gray walls, yanking me back to the present. “Only the lowest of inmates have to clean the bathrooms.”
A tall girl stood in the center of the open showers, long ringlets of pale blonde hair framing her flawless face. She had the body of a ballet dancer without looking anorexic. She still had a chest.
Not like mine, though.
Two other girls accompanied her, all of them sporting menacing scowls.
“A disgusting job for a disgusting seelie-dae.” A raven-haired beauty sent a sneer my way as if I were the scum on the bottom of her boot. “She belongs out in the trash.”
“She is trash, Isla.” The other girl’s petite frame and delicate features reminded me of a doll. “Maybe she’ll be cleaning the dumpster next.” Her angelic blue eyes dazzled even under the grimy overhead bulbs.
Kimber had pointed out these three unseelies during breakfast this morning as they fawned over Viktor. I’d noticed a pattern. Like these girls, all the unseelies had varying shades of light-blue eyes except for Viktor. His were pure silver ice. The seelies had violet or dark blue, and every daemon had vibrant emerald. The other Fae races didn’t seem to follow the same genetic rules.
I resisted the urge to kick the bucket of soapy water at the three girls. I knew it wouldn’t be long before another confrontation came my way. The blonde oozed immaturity. She reminded me of one of those Queen B’s in high school that had serious entitlement issues. Isla seemed more likely to slit my throat than play teenage games. She was definitely the oldest even though she didn’t look a day over twenty-one. The little doll could be any age. She made me the most uneasy because something vicious lurked under that innocent appearance.
“What do you want?” I stopped mopping and leaned against the handle. “I have bigger things to worry about than trading insults with the court of skanks.”
The blonde girl’s mouth dropped. “I’m Helena Zanders. You can’t talk to me that way.”
Entitlement issues like I’d guessed. “I don’t care who you are or what your problem is. You can take a number and get in line behind everyone else at Wayward Fae Pen.”
The doll nudged Helena. “Are you going to let this piece of trash talk to you that way? You know the kind of person you have to be if you want—”
“I know, Gemma.” If looks could
kill, the doll would be six feet under. The toxic ballerina turned her attention back to me. “You’re going to regret ever stepping foot in this place.”
I shot her an incredulous expression. “Like I had a choice. This is prison, not a country club.”
A sudden wind kicked up, and magic swelled in the room. My flesh prickled as Helena fixed her glowing stare on me. Oh, great. Psycho Ballet Barbie had elemental air magic, but she wasn’t as strong as Viktor because my feet remained planted as she tried to lift me.
When I hadn’t budged, the other two unseelies joined in. Double great. They had elemental air magic too, and none of them sported a goblin cuff. My boots dragged across the wet floor, and I hit the wall.
“Someone needs to clean the filth off her,” Helena said over the howling wind.
I glanced up, finding a rusty showerhead above. I was about to get soaked.
Helena’s lips twisted into a leer. “Oh, no sweetheart. That water’s too good for you.” She addressed her friends. “Hold her.”
A hole tore open in my gut as she turned toward the row of toilets hidden within stalls. She wouldn’t. Helena held her hand out, focusing on the stalls. I fought against the two girls, but they kept pushing me into the wall.
If I didn’t have this damn cuff on!
I’d what? Burn them alive?
Gurgling echoed from the toilets, and a stream of water slithered out of each stall, headed in my direction. I clamped my mouth shut as it smacked my face.
Son of a bitch.
I gaged and sputtered. Helena had water magic too.
Their laughter bounced off the walls as another wave of water crashed into my body. The girls dropped me to the floor, but before I could scramble up, more filthy toilet water rained down, soaking me from head to toe.
“A disgusting half-breed is all you’ll ever be.” A boot crushed my fingers, and Isla flashed a sinister grin from above as I hissed.
Helena held her hand out, rattling the pipes. “Just so you don’t get any ideas about cleaning up. The grime wouldn’t wash off anyway. It’s permanently stuck to you.”
Their laughter died as they trailed out of the bathroom. I climbed to my feet, my nostrils flaring. I couldn’t believe those evil bitches got the better of me.
Of course they did. They could use magic. Had it been fist to cuffs, I could have taken them. Maybe.
I marched toward one of the showers, twisting it. Not a drop of water came out.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I slapped the wall, cursing up a storm.
“What seems to be the problem?” A female correctional officer strolled into the bathroom with a frosty look in her eyes. Slightly pointed ears stuck through her light brown hair. She was possibly a fairy or maybe an elf.
“The showers won’t turn on, and I fell in dirty water.” I wasn’t a snitch, and in my experience, both parties ended up getting in trouble.
She waved her hand, and the pipes rattled again. Water sputtered out.
“Thanks.” I started to step under the spray, but she interrupted.
“I believe you’re supposed to be cleaning. Not showering.” She pointed a long, sharp nail at the bucket. “Get back to work, inmate.”
My molars ground as I glared at the officer. She knew exactly what those three hags had done. She probably guarded the door to make sure no one interrupted my torment. Maybe Viktor put them up to this.
Well, they had another thing coming if they thought this would break me. Not even close.
“Of course,” I shot her knowing smile, “and I bet you’re going to watch the whole time to make sure I don’t take a break.”
She didn’t say anything. Her haughty smirk was answer enough.
The same guard escorted me down the bleak hall to one of the rooms used for school—without allowing me to clean up. When I’d reached to turn on the water, in spite of her command, she grabbed the cylindrical device dangling from her belt. The hint of purple sparks zipped from the end, reminding me of the electricity running along the fence outside.
Instead of a billy club, these officers carried a magic-wielding taser. All thoughts of trying to shower had gone out the window. I had no desire to be magically electrocuted.
A shiver rippled up my spine as memories of lightning and the very real possibility of being electrocuted sped through my mind. I quickly shook the nightmare off and continued walking down the cement hall.
I glanced over my shoulder. The pep in the officer’s step told me she was enjoying this a little too much. The silver nametag pinned to the left side of her fitted navy uniform top read Correctional Officer Gildafor.
“Turn around and keep walking,” she commanded, her hand going to the device again.
“What is that?” I asked.
She lovingly stroked it. “It’s called a behavior modification device or B.M.D. Most of the inmates refer to it as a sizzle stick.”
My skin puckered, and I faced forward. I’d do everything in my power not to get zapped by that crap.
We finally arrived at the classroom, and Officer Gildafor left. Four hours, five days a week would be spent in the shabby room until I reached eighteen. Windows stretched on one wall, showcasing a lovely view of those magically electrified fences. Was that on purpose?
All eyes turned in my direction, including those belonging to Helena and Gemma who sat in the back snickering. Isla wouldn’t be in school anymore. The group in the corner holding their noises had to be shifters. Their animal-like sense of smell could pick up on the repulsive fumes I emitted.
Kimber waved me over, holding back a grimace as I sat. “What the heck happened, girlie? You kind of smell disgusting. And look it too.” She shrugged. “Some guys dig that, though.”
That was true.
“I’ll tell you later, but it involves the witches of Wayward over there.” I jerked my chin in their direction.
They cracked up with laughter again.
“Ugh. I hate them,” Kimber said. “They’re more toxic than a troll bog.”
I didn’t even want to know.
The classroom could have belonged in any typical rundown school. The black board at the front still hosted layers of chalk dust from previous days. The teacher’s desk was ready to fall apart, and the students’ seats were no better.
You’d think with all the magic around here, someone would spiffy up the place. Maybe the warden wanted it to feel slightly neglected to keep us in a depressing atmosphere. This was a prison after all.
The attention in the room suddenly shifted away from me, and my stomach dropped. I didn’t need to look to know who just walked in, but I did anyway. The jerk was impossible to ignore.
Viktor Hale sauntered in, an infinitesimal twist to his lips. They were still set in that permanent grimace, but a little less snarly than last night. When he found me, the smile hitched up on one side.
I gritted my teeth to keep from sinking lower in my desk to hide from him. He trudged through the collection of half-empty desks, his movements surprisingly fluid for someone so big. I breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the last desk in the row on the other side of the classroom—and then he slowly turned and headed through the back directly toward me.
Shit. Would this turn into another airborne brawl? My fingers absentmindedly scratched at the goblin cuff. I had to figure out a way to get this thing off. Good behavior wasn’t possible if I had to fend off attacks from Faolan, Viktor, and the three witches.
Viktor’s heavy boots came to rest near the side of my desk, his gaze like a lead weight on my face. I swiveled toward him and flashed my best smile.
“Viktor, what a surprise.” My bored tone did an excellent job of masking the cold fear stirring in my gut. My arm covertly slipped around the metal bar connecting the desk to the chair. Were these desks bolted to the floor? It wouldn’t do any good if they weren’t. The furniture and I would both go flying in the air.
The unseelie prince leaned down, twin shards of ice staring at
me. “I heard about your accident in the showers while cleaning. The plumbing here is dicey.”
His voice came out in a low, husky string of words with menace dripping from each syllable. It took everything I had not to cower away. His clean, fresh scent lingering with pine tickled my nose, even drowning out the stench of toilet water clinging to me.
His hand disappeared into his pocket, drawing an object out. He placed a bar of soap on my desk. “I think you need this more than I do.” The guy bent so close the heat from his body swarmed mine. “Be careful, though. Don’t drop it in the shower.” His hot breath teased my cheek.
I ground my teeth and held back a shiver. Viktor was terrifying, brutal, and determined to break me. But no matter how powerful or cruel he was, he wouldn’t stop me from protecting my sister.
I grabbed the soap and brought it to my nose, hoping like hell he couldn’t detect the slight tremor in my hand. “Mmm. Irish Spring. My favorite. Thanks, Vik. You shouldn’t have.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, almost as if he wanted to smile. Instead, his mouth settled into a tight slash across his face, and he stood to his full six-foot-something frame. “Watch your back, seelie-dae,” he muttered just as the teacher hurried in and closed the door.
“I hope we can get through today without incident.” Her lyrical voice managed to cut through the tension still pulsating between Viktor and me as he marched away. “Officer Laveen told me how problematic your session was Friday.”
I had no idea how this Fae school worked. What would we be learning? Math? Science? The difference between a gnome and a sprite?
I wouldn’t mind the latter. The Fae world was confusing as hell.
The tips of pointy ears peeked through flowing lavender hair, and a flash of gossamer wings fluttered from her back. Her bright hazel eyes lifted, widening when she found me. “Oh, um, right. Warden Balfour informed me of you.” She swallowed hard. “I’m Officer Farren.”
I gave an awkward nod. I wasn’t used to someone fearing me off the bat. It usually took some convincing on my part.