by J. N. Colon
If Helena were a bull, she’d charged me horns first. Instead, an eerie radiance pulsated through her irises as her hand lifted.
Damn. Did I go too far?
The air stirred, and I braced myself for impact. With the fury of a tornado, a gust of wind hit me in the chest. My feet went airborne in seconds.
I really should learn to keep my mouth shut.
I tumbled through the bathroom until a wall stopped me. Pain stabbed my left side as one of the shower nozzles dug into my ribs, yanking a sharp gasp from me. My head spun while blood thundered in my ears. That unseelie packed a punch when she was pissed.
One day, I’d get this damn goblin bracelet off and kick her blonde ballerina ass.
Helena released her hold, and my body slammed into the wet tiles. I blinked the stars from my vision to find her scowling face above. Not a sight I wanted to see ever again.
“Stay away from Viktor, mutt.” She pressed her boot into my already aching side, returning those stars with a vengeance. “This is just a little taste of what I can do. Don’t forget.” Helena turned and marched out, hips swaying.
“Psycho freak,” I muttered, crawling into a sitting position. She probably had dreams of marrying Viktor and becoming the princess of Wayward Fae Penitentiary.
A groan escaped my mouth as I counted the many obstacles standing in my way. Not only did Viktor loathe me, but his stalker girlfriend wanted my blood, preferably dripping from the end of her knife.
I needed to get my head in the game before the queen decided to check up on my progress, which was so far a big fat zero.
Chapter 11
Faolan ran up and down the basketball court, throwing elbows every chance he got. Several players had been forced to the sidelines with bloody noses and annoyed glowers. The alpha shifter flashed smirks their way.
What a douche bag. He was worse than those cocky jocks who thought they were God’s gift to girls.
A bitter taste coated the back of my throat thinking of one in particular. Tommy Radcliff had certainly thought he owned everyone he met on and off the football field.
I quickly choked back the toxic memories before they could whittle away my armor. Cool autumn air filtered across the yard and spread a chill over the weights. Towering oaks emerged in the distance, their rainbow leaves mixing with vibrant green pines. I took a few deep breaths of fresh air.
Until now, I hadn’t stepped foot outside since being put away in Wayward Fae Penitentiary. Inmates were allowed leisure time during the day and we had a choice to visit the yard, which consisted of a basketball court, a running track, and a weight area.
I started curling a set up dumbbells. I might as well get a little more buff if I intended to get into that fight club. Unfortunately, someone had other ideas about what I should be doing out here.
An elbow slammed into my side, the same spot the shower nozzle had jabbed me, and a sharp pain exploded across the left of my torso. The weights tumbled from my hands, barely missing my toes.
“Oops. My bad, seelie-dae.” Tiana, the daemon who used to be Kimber’s best friend, shot me a smirk. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Right,” I wheezed, “like I don’t see that double chin forming. Maybe you should lay off the midnight snacks.”
Her eyes narrowed before she stomped away. Tiana had a place on my shit list just below that blonde unseelie psycho Helena.
“Hey there, Sloane.” Barlow sauntered up, thick muscles bulging in his tank top. The guy must have spent all his free time lifting weights. He had a shorter stature than some of the Fae here, but he was all muscle.
“How’s it going?” I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from clutching my side.
Barlow plucked a juniper stick from behind his hair and lit it with a pack of matches. “Not bad. I’ve been hanging with a couple of water fairies.” He licked his lips. “They’re playful little things.”
I snorted. “I’m sure you were a good playmate.”
“I’m the best there is, darling.” He blew pine-scented smoke from his grinning mouth. “Care for a J?”
I shook my head although it did smell nice. It reminded me of Viktor.
Nope. I shot that line of thinking right down. I folded onto the weight bench, dragging my fingers through my hair. “Where’s Kimber?”
“Eating.”
My brows rose. “Again?”
Barlow shrugged. “She’s trying to get an early snack so she doesn’t wake you tonight.”
That was so considerate.
“Our little Kimmie is a sweet girl,” Barlow said as if reading my mind. “Most succubi are stuck up, hateful things. That’s why Kimber doesn’t room with them.”
“Really?” I glanced around the yard to see if I could spot any other succubi. A group of a dozen Fae walking in a single file line on the outside of the chain link fence caught my eye. Three guards traveled behind them. “What are they doing?”
“Looks like they’re going on a work trip outside the prison,” Barlow said. “Probably picking up trash on the side of the road or something.”
Taking magic-wielding Fae outside of the prison walls seemed risky. “Do they all have to wear goblin cuffs?”
“They wear containment collars also known as sizzle chokies.” He grimaced and stabbed his juniper stick in their direction. “They’re like little sizzle sticks locked around your neck. If you misbehave or try to escape, the guards can press a button, giving you a magical shock that’s caused some inmates to piss their pants.” A shudder rippled through his body.
“I hope I never get picked to go outside then.” I had a feeling the guards would be tempted to hit the button on me whether I misbehaved or not.
“You should be fine.” Barlow waved away the purple mist forming from the juniper stick. “Most of the guards aren’t too trigger happy.”
Right.
Barlow rapped the bar stretching across the top of the bench. “Need a spot?”
“Nah.” I laid down, stretching out on the worn pleather cushion. “I’m just going to relax.”
His head appeared above, green hair vibrant against the dreary clouds. “All right then, little seelie-dae. I’ll catch you around the dark cellblock.” He held his fist out, tapping my knuckles before sauntering off into the crowd of Fae.
Clouds moved across the gray sky, and I closed my lids thinking of the last time I’d felt rain on my skin. Two weeks ago, a chilly drizzle had sprinkled us as I walked Jilly home from school. She was sad because some kids in her class had been talking about the movie Shrek and she’d never seen it. I knew Danny Michelson had the DVD, so I jogged to his house after dropping her off. He told me I could borrow it—for a price.
I decided his price was my fist in his face and took the movie out of his limp hands after he went down.
Jilly and I curled under the covers in our room as we watched it on the beat-up laptop I dug out of some rich guy’s trash can. You’d be surprised by what the wealthy considered trash. My little sister never giggled so much. She said she’d marry Shrek even if it meant she couldn’t be a princess.
“If you want to take a nap, go to your room.”
I knew exactly who the rough, husky voice shattering my warm memory belonged to. The same sound had been haunting my dreams—and my waking hours.
My lids slowly lifted, narrowing on the unseelie prince. “I’m working out. Just taking a break.”
A line deepened between his brows. “You haven’t moved in ten minutes, and I need this bench. Get up.”
“Why, Vik, have you been watching me?” A smirk curved my lips. “You sure pay a lot of attention to someone who disgusts you.”
“It’s a filthy habit.” His fingers curled over the bar while planting his other hand on the bench by my ribs, trapping me in his unrelenting presence. He invaded my senses. “Get up before I toss you on your ass.”
“Then you’d have to touch me,” I quipped. “I know how much that idea sickens you.”
A growl rumb
led through Viktor’s throat as he whipped a juniper stick out of his pocket and lit it. The misty purple smoke blew directly in my face, wrapping me in the heady pine aroma that reminded me too much of him. “Fine. Stay there. I won’t make it pleasant for you.”
I sighed and sat up, forcing him away. “Whatever, Hale. Take the damn bench. Like you need to lift more weights.” My gaze ate up his tattooed biceps and then lingered over the muscles carving every inch of him. He didn’t have an ounce of body fat.
That crooked smirk reappeared. “See something you like?”
I saw lots I liked. “Yeah, I’m picturing you with a muzzle.” I motioned toward his mouth. “A permanent one.”
“The women here wouldn’t appreciate that. They love my hands,” he slowly licked his lips, “but they love my mouth more.”
I scowled even as heat melted across my skin. “You’re so full of shit.” I planted my feet on the ground and stood. Pain ricocheted through my ribs, yanking a hiss out of me, and my hand instantly splayed on my torso as if that could lessen the searing.
Viktor’s head tilted to the side as he studied me. “What the hell happened to you?”
I breathed until the throbbing subsided. “Ask your psycho stalker.” Were Helena and Viktor an actual item? He didn’t seem like a one-woman kind of guy.
He took a drag of his juniper stick. “Care to elaborate? I have a lot of fans in Wayward Fae Pen.”
“Helena,” I spat. “She came to warn me to stay away from you. Apparently, you’re hers.”
He made a face, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the thought of us together or from Helena’s crazed possessiveness. Maybe both. “She’s always been a few pixie sticks short of a full pack.”
No kidding.
“Speaking of pixie sticks. What kind of black-market merch do you get from the Otherworld?” I figured blurting it out might catch him off guard.
He crossed his thick, tattooed arms over his broad chest. “How do you know about trades from the Otherworld?”
“I might have overheard a possible transaction.”
Viktor huffed. “I’ll have to remind my employees to be more discreet. Can’t have the enemy learning my secrets.”
I rolled my eyes. “I doubt it’s much of a secret. You seem to have your hand in lots of things here.” For all I knew, the warden had a spot on his payroll.
A dangerous grin curled his mouth. “You should remember that.”
I ignored his underlying threat and pushed for more information. “Are you bringing over weapons or something?”
Viktor scoffed. “Why would we need weapons against humans?”
Good point.
“Certain items aren’t allowed in the human world, or at least not without permission or regulation. F.I.C. likes to control these things. And I prefer they don’t.”
I pictured magical plants that made you hallucinate and poisonous apples. “What kind of things?”
“None of your damn business, seelie-dae.”
When Viktor tried to step by me, I blocked his path, but the quick movement sent another flare of fire through my side. Son of a bitch.
Without warning, Viktor’s hand shot out, peeling up my shirt to reveal the purple and blue bruises mottling my side. His expression remained completely unreadable. “She got you good.”
Being this close to Viktor wreaked havoc on my body. Hot and cold swirled around me, and fine tremors rippled through my muscles. The smoke from his juniper stick floated between us. I swayed toward him.
Viktor made a humming sound as he scrutinized me, licking his lips. I expected him to jump back or even push me down like a bully on the playground. Instead, he moved closer.
Air stuck in my lungs. I could hardly breathe and when I did, it was all Viktor. That delicious crisp citrus and pine from the juniper stick had me intoxicated within seconds. His fingers reached out, gently sliding over the bruises. And lower. My skin puckered under his touch. The small space between us filled with electricity, threatening to wipe every lick of sense from my brain.
Viktor’s breath teased my neck and crawled down the top of my shirt. The distance between us diminished even more. If we were any closer, our bodies would be fused together.
And then reality came crashing down around us.
Viktor yanked his hand away as if I’d stung him. His chest heaved rapidly, nostrils flaring. Those eyes glowed so brightly they were almost white. Hatred bled through the air, thick and as toxic as the nightmares I kept hidden from my sister.
Whatever just happened shouldn’t have.
I stepped back and tugged my shirt down. With a snarl, he pivoted and marched out of the yard.
I couldn’t resist. “So you don’t want to use the weight bench?” I called after him.
His steps faltered. My mouth dried up thinking he would march back and put me in my place. But Viktor Hale continued on, not casting a second glance. Was he wondering what the hell just happened between us? I certainly was.
My heart crashed inside my chest cavity like the ocean does in a category five hurricane battering the coast. I wiped my clammy palms on my pants. The moment Officer Garrett pulled me out of my room to escort me to a phone call, I knew I was in deep shit.
The only person calling me would be Queen Isadora. And no, I hadn’t killed her brother yet. Not even close.
I closed the glass privacy door and folded down on to the cold metal seat in the phone booth. My hand trembled grabbing the receiver. “Hello?” I licked my lips, waiting on the frigid tone of the queen.
“Hello, Sloane. I assume you know who this is.”
Dread tore a hole right in the center of my gut. “Uh, yeah. Hi.” Should I address her as queen or your highness? I’d never called her anything at the F.I.C. station. “Your…”
“We don’t need to bother with pleasantries or titles, Sloane. I’m also certain you know why I’m calling.”
I swallowed the lump of coal. “I haven’t done it yet. I still have this thing on my wrist. I can’t use magic.”
A silky laugh that hinted at a threat just below the surface sailed over the line. “Oh, Sloane, I didn’t expect you to have the task completed this soon. That could have only been accomplished by someone trained at killing, and my brother would have spotted an expert a mile away.” She paused. “But, your progress leaves little to be desired.”
Of course the queen had spies at the prison. She probably had someone watching my every move. “Viktor can’t stand me. And thanks for the heads up about being the despised mutt of the Fae world. That really hasn’t helped my chances.”
“You need to try harder.” She sighed into the phone. “Forget about being a seelie-dae. You are a beautiful girl. Most Fae are, but then there are some, like you, who are just… more. Viktor is a male and appreciates beautiful things.”
Her words had my stomach bottoming out. “You want me to seduce him?”
The queen’s chuckle sent goose bumps over my skin. “Do whatever it takes, even if that includes using your feminine wiles.”
How was I supposed to seduce a guy that hated me? Flashes of him pressing me into the wall and whispering in my ear had heat boiling low in my belly. Then there was that little incident in the yard earlier when he’d stroked my ribs and stood so close his entire body could have consumed mine. Did Viktor Hale really hate me?
When those eyes turned to shards of ice so sharp, they could slice me in half. Yes, he loathed me.
“Remember, Sloane,” the queen’s voice interrupted my battling thoughts, “Jillian’s life is in your hands. She’s enjoying her new home with Joshua and Margaret, a very nice young couple with not only upstanding morals and values but plenty of money. That could all disappear if you fail.”
My jaw clenched, and I held the phone so tight the plastic began to creak. “I’ll get it done.”
“Excellent. I’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead and I slumped back into the booth wall. My heart ached for my sister. I’d sac
rifice anything for her, even my life, but it might not be my life that would get tossed on a ritual pyre. The tattered remnants of my soul might end up paying the price.
Chapter 12
Kimber pulled me into the club in the basement of Wayward Fae Penitentiary, keeping close to the walls. If Viktor spotted me now, I’d be tossed out on my ass.
“What’s your plan again?” I asked over the cheers from the crowd below. My cellmate had agreed to help me weasel my way into a fight but only after I donned this ridiculous green and black bikini-like sports bra. Kimber thought I’d look super hot if I took my shirt off during the match.
Not happening. One of my boobs would pop right out of this tight spandex thing.
On second thought, that would probably catch Viktor’s attention. And that was the whole point.
“Rya is supposed to fight someone tonight.” Kimber winked over her shoulder. “I’m going to distract her.”
“How?” Would she get her alone, knock her out, and tie her up?
Kimber slowly licked her lips. “How do you think, girlfriend?”
Oh. She intended to use her succubus mojo. There would be no knocking unconscious, but I wouldn’t count out the tying up part.
We snuck into one of the rooms in the back with couches and a bar of drinks. A girl a few sizes bigger than me whipped around when we entered, her raven braid swinging.
“Kim, what are you doing here?” She stood on her toes to peer into the hallway. “Is it my turn?”
“Not yet, Rya.” Kimber slithered forward while a predatory expression crossed her face. Sexual energy oozed off of her in thick, heated waves. “I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”
Damn. Even I’d consider making out with my cellmate if she tossed those vibes my way.
A lazy smile curled Rya’s lips. “Oh, yeah?” Her gaze slowly swept over Kimber.
“Yep.”
Rya grabbed Kimber’s arm and towed her toward another door, my cellmate giving me a thumbs up over her shoulder before disappearing.