Blindly Indicted

by Katie May

  Alarmed, I jump to my feet and hurry over to him, easily slipping out of Bronson’s head and into Damien’s.

  “Oh my gosh. Are you okay? Does it hurt?” The acid in my stomach churns like lava as I grab his hand and pull up his sleeve. Long gashes litter his skin—his wrist, his palm, his arm. I barely even hear Bronson’s warning over the roaring in my ears.

  Without thought, I rip off the sleeve of my dress and wrap it around the worst of the scars. It’s the only thing I can think of to do. At the Compound, I often had to heal my own injuries, at least the ones that didn’t heal by themselves. I still have a hideous scar marring my spine from when one of my torturers cut deep enough to see bone. Though my skin had knitted itself back together, the scar still remains. A reminder.

  “How did you know about my scars?” Damien questions softly. His eyes are no longer on his bleeding wrist, but on my face. I swear I feel stripped and vulnerable beneath his gaze. Though his eyes may be icy, they trail across my body like molten lava setting me aflame.

  “What?” I ask, using the pad of my finger to feel the raised, jagged lines. With his eyes intent on me instead of his arm, I’m forced to rely on touch alone. When my finger comes back sticky with blood, I use a portion of my dress to create a makeshift bandage.

  “How did you see the scars?” His mouth is directly next to my ear, and goosebumps explode on my skin. My heart palpitates at his proximity, but I keep my face blank.

  “I... I don’t know what you mean.”

  Kai’s warning plays on a continuous loop in my head. He told me that I can’t trust the others, but surely that’s not true. They have been nothing but kind and welcoming since I arrived...except for Cain. He’s been, for lack of better words, a butt hole.

  “You’re a strange girl, Nina Doe,” Damien whispers, a mixture of awe and reverence in his tone.

  I drop my hand from his wrist and tilt my head back. Though I can’t see him, I know he can see me—see the sincerity in my cloudy eyes.

  “What do you mean?”

  I also want to ask how he knows my court-appointed last name, but now doesn’t seem like the time.

  “No one has ever cared about my scars,” Damien murmurs, and his words scratch at the hole in my chest.

  Our moment is broken apart by the pounding of footsteps and then the presence of bodies surrounding me. One of the men—I’m assuming Kai—attempts to take me from Damien, but the mage actually growls. If I didn’t know what he was, I would’ve assumed he was some type of shifter.

  Damien moves us both until I’m resting on his lap in one of the spare chairs, Bronson on one side of me and Kai on the other. Both men hold one of my hands, seemingly oblivious or choosing not to care that I’m in someone else’s lap.

  I’ll never understand men.

  Is this normal?

  I sift through the minds present until settling on Cain’s. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as he surveys the room. My cheeks take on a rosy quality as I realize how I look to the outside viewer.

  Propped on Damien’s lap, with his hands on my thighs...

  Bronson tightly gripping one hand...

  Kai holding the other...

  I don’t know enough about societal norms to be able to tell you if this is normal. I know some friends can be more touchy-feeling than others. Maybe that’s all this is.

  “Awww. No fair. I want in on the cuddle orgy,” Abel pouts. He’s still in the entrance to Bronson’s cell, eyes flickering over the four of us like he’s looking for a place to plant himself.

  Orgy...orgy...orgy.

  I could’ve sworn I heard that word before, yet it doesn’t ring any bells.

  Kai and Bronson both glare, but Damien offers the demon a droll look.

  “Only people who contribute to the orgy are allowed to participate.”

  “I contribute!” Abel protests indignantly. His lower lip pushes out farther. “But only one of you is pretty enough for me.” He emphasizes this with a waggle of his eyebrows in my direction.

  “Sorry. Don’t swing that way,” Damien deadpans.

  “Not cool, man. Not cool. You can’t just reject the happy camper.” Abel points toward his crotch, and if my cheeks weren’t on fire before, they definitely are now. The only saving grace is that the guys—sans Kai—don’t know I can see them. “If the happy camper chooses you, then you should consider yourself lucky.”

  “Wait, I’m confused,” Cain butts in. “Did your happy camper choose Damien or Nina?”

  “And why do you call your cock happy camper?” Damien adds, amusedly. His hands begin to absently knead my thighs, and I resist the urge to wiggle.

  “It’s more of an elephant’s trunk don’t you think?” Abel jests. “Long and thick.”

  “Yeah...those aren’t the first two words that come to mind when I think of an elephant’s trunk,” Cain grouses.

  “Nina, say you agree with me, babe. Come on,” Abel pleads. My face? Pretty sure it’s one thousand degrees.

  “How would she know?” Kai asks, still gripping my hand. “She hasn’t seen it yet.”

  Seen what yet? Why don’t I understand what the heck they’re talking about? Does Kai want me to see his friend’s...happy camper?!

  “It has its ups and downs...and sometimes it’s a little hard...other times it’s a pain in the ass...” Abel trails off before throwing his head back in laughter. “Fuck, guys, that was good. I’m a regular comedian.”

  I turn toward Bronson—the only one not joining in on their antics—and whisper, “I’m confused.”

  He leans closer, his earthy, masculine scent surrounding me, and replies, “Ignore him. I do.”

  “That’s not nice!” Abel tells Bronson once his laughter has receded. “It’s bullying.”

  Through Cain’s eyes, I watch Bronson roll his. I can’t help but giggle at his annoyance.

  “Now, are we going to be serious? Or are we going to continue behaving like children?” Kai asks, flashing a pointed look at first Abel and then Cain and then Damien. My giggling increases as Abel drops his head like a child being reprimanded by a parent. Still, I swear I see his lips twitch at my laugh.

  “Sorry.”

  Ignoring his apology, Kai turns toward me and takes my cheeks between both of his hands. His palms are rough against my skin, but his touch causes fireworks to dance down my spine.

  “I’m sorry I lost my control yesterday,” Kai tells me earnestly. “I should’ve stayed with you, asked you questions. Instead, I allowed my anger to get the better of me, and for that, I apologize. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, and I’ll do better. I promise. And I should’ve told you the truth sooner about what I am, but I was afraid. Afraid you’ll reject me or hate me or see me as a monster. Nina, I’m a dragon. An elemental dragon, to be exact. I’m different from shifters and werewolves since I can transform at any time and I only have one form. I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me. Please know I will never, not ever, hurt you.”

  My eyes water at his heartfelt apology. I haven’t even realized he had done something wrong. This is a learning curve for both of us, I realize. Before, we had been nothing but kids attempting to understand this strange new world we’d been thrust into. Now, we are adults facing a similar problem. We have to understand the new game board, the new pawns, the new rules. All of us are going to make mistakes.

  When his hands drop from my face, I interlock our fingers together once more.

  “I forgive you.”

  I’ll always forgive you.

  When Kai begins to smile, Cain quickly looks away as if our shared happiness physically pains him. I’ll have to talk to the sex demon and soon. I’m beginning to consider all these men my friends...maybe something more, though what that more is remains a mystery. The last thing we need is discord within our group.

  “Tell us what happened,” Bronson demands gruffly. When I hesitate, Kai gives my hand a reassuring, encouraging squeeze.

  ”A Councilman�
�woman—was here to see me,” I begin. “Alyssa Something...I can't remember her last name.” I have the urge to do something with my hands. Fiddle with my ripped sleeve. Pluck at my nails. Twirl my hair around my finger. At the same time, I don’t want to remove my hands from Bronson’s and Kai’s. Warmth migrates from where we touch and settles in my chest. “She believes me. She believes that I’m innocent.”

  “What does that mean? Are you leaving?” Abel asks, and I hear both hope and dread in his voice.

  Shaking my head, I say, “No. She doesn’t have any proof. Just a gut feeling. She told me a little about what Raphael hoped to implement in the supernatural world. Interspecies marriages and breeding, for one. She also mentioned that it’s a controversial subject.”

  Bronson begins rubbing patterns against the back of my hand with his thumb, and full-body shivers take over me at the menial contact.

  “It’s true,” he replies in his low, raspy voice. “Wolves are with wolves. Vampires are with vamps. Mages are with mages. And so on.”

  My heart drops into my stomach at his declaration. For some reason, a reason I can’t name, that bothers me. A lot. Does he feel that way too? Does he only want to be with a wolf?

  “So she thinks someone opposed to those policies killed him,” Kai clarifies.

  Abel whistles between his teeth. “Damn. Whoever it is must have a lot of juice. Raphael Turner is extremely fucking powerful. Like, he can turn water into wine type of powerful. I’m grudgingly impressed.”

  Clearing my throat once, I wiggle in Damien’s lap and remove my hand from Kai’s. “She also mentioned you, Damien.” I poke his arm—the only piece of his body I’m able to touch. “Is it true that you tried to kill Raphael?”

  I hold my breath as I wait for his answer. Damien releases a heavy, prolonged sigh, his hands tightening on my thighs.

  “Unfortunately. It was nothing personal—I don’t give a shit about Council politics. I was hired to do a job, and I failed. He had more security on him than the motherfucking president.” As always, he delivers his speech without an ounce of inflection whatsoever. I might believe him to be numb if his hands hadn’t tightened imperceptibly on my thighs once more.

  “Do you know who sent you?” Kai asks eagerly, leaning forward. Damien gives him a dry look.

  “Of course not. That’s not the way things work.”

  “Could you find out?” Abel cuts in.

  Damien taps a finger to his smooth-shaven chin, considering. After a moment, he gives a decisive bob of his head. “I can ask around.”

  “So whoever killed Raphael was powerful enough to take out highly trained and powerful guards,” Kai surmises. “As well as an extremely old and powerful vampire. Who has that type of power?”

  I volley my head between all the men. I wish desperately I could contribute to the conversation, but my mind is swirling faster than a tornado.

  “Lionel Green,” Cain cuts in suddenly, snapping his head up. I note, out of Cain’s peripheral, Abel ball his hands into fists as his face drains of color.

  “The shifter representative?” Kai clarifies, and Cain nods once, the movement jerky.

  “He hates Raphael and the policies. He believed every species should remain segregated from the others. He also voted the last ten times to reveal our existence to humans.” Cain’s voice is heady with loathing and something else, something almost akin to fear. It makes me want to wrap my arms around him and offer him my warmth. To fill up his cracks with what little light I can offer.

  “He would be powerful enough to take out Raphael, especially if he had help,” Abel adds subduedly, almost reluctantly.

  “And luckily for us, we have one of his ex-workers hanging around,” Kai says with a manic grin. Ex-worker? Who is he talking about?

  He doesn’t mean Mr. Scruffles, does he?

  “Bronson, Damien, and Abel...you’re with me,” Kai says, and all three men stiffen.

  “Why me?” Abel whines.

  “Because we need your crazy to deal with someone even more crazy,” Kai answers immediately. When none of the guys move to do his bidding, he releases a low and threatening snarl that causes bugs to skitter across my body. “Cain is more than capable of looking after her for a few minutes. Isn’t that right, Cain?” His tone leaves no room for argument. Either he agrees...or suffers the consequences.

  I don’t want to know what those consequences entail. Kai’s wrath is as vengeful as a storm, shattering houses and leaving behind dead bodies.

  Cain sounds as if his teeth are being pulled out one tooth at a time. “Right.”

  What have I gotten myself into?

  Chapter 21

  Nina

  Cain is so mercurial. Sometimes I want to punch him, and sometimes I want to give him a long hug.

  Currently, it’s the former option.

  After he leads me to his cell, we sit in a long, potent silence. I know he’s gazing at me as intently as I am him. While he may be focusing on the physical characteristics, I’m focusing on other things.

  Like his heart that I can hear beating erratically. The uneven drawls of his breath. The smoky scent emitting from his body combined with something floral from his shampoo. The tap, tap, tap of his fingers against the armrest of his chair. He’s tense. Anxious.

  But he doesn’t want anyone to know.

  After a long, unnerving moment of silence, I jump to my feet and begin to trail my fingers over the table. Numerous boxes greet my searching hand.

  “What’s this?” I ask softly. I could always slip inside his head and see for myself, but I would rather hear the answer from him. Right now, he’s barely holding himself together. I don’t know if my curiosity will distract him or send him teetering over that steep edge.

  “Game,” he responds scathingly. “Have you played?”

  “Well, I can’t answer unless I know what game it is,” I reply with an eye roll.

  “Monopoly,” he spits out. Does he really hate me so much that we can’t have a cordial conversation? For reasons I don’t care to define, that hurts tremendously.

  “Never played,” I answer, caressing a second box.

  “Chess,” he names, almost reluctantly.

  Smiling, I jiggle the box in front of his face enticingly. “Let’s play!”

  “You know how to play chess?” His voice is heady with disbelief and scorn. When I continue to smile, not answering, he relents with a disgruntled sigh. “Fine. Whatever.”

  “Perfect!” Clapping my hands together, I feel my way back to the chair and sit opposite of him at the table. Kai’s words from earlier volley around in my head like a loose basketball.

  No one can know the truth.

  “You’ll have to tell me which square you place your pawn on,” I decide quickly. “A6 or B2 or whatever. That’s how Kai played with me.”

  And it was… until I mastered my gift and learned how to slip into his head with ease. For now, my powers are a closely guarded secret. I’ll keep them under lock and key in an impenetrable coffin buried miles below cement. No amount of digging can uncover it.

  “Got it,” Cain bites out. I’m beginning to believe the demon only has two moods: angry and very angry. It’s such a contrast to sunny Abel that they’re as different as night and day. Maybe that’s not a bad analogy for them. Abel embodies an inner light while Cain has an internal darkness. Yet, they need each other, each one intricately intertwined with the other.

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I watch through Cain’s eyes as he sets up the board. He’s black, unsurprisingly, leaving the white for me.

  He moves his pawn first.

  “Pawn to B5,” he announces, sitting back in his chair and forking his fingers together just at the edge of his vision.

  Absently, I feel for my pieces, memorizing the board, and move my own piece up two spaces. I remember from Kai’s lessons that the first time you move a pawn, you’re able to move it up two spaces instead of one. I know this game so well that I don’t need
someone to move my pieces for me—I can easily feel the ridges of the king’s crown and the curve of the knight. I can play and win this game without eyesight.

  Once more, Cain surveys the board before moving a different pawn forward. “Pawn to C5.”

  “So, Cain,” I begin conversationally as I move my knight. “You don’t like me very much.”

  “I never said that,” he huffs. “Pawn to D5.”

  “You didn’t have to,” I point out. “You can’t stand to be in the same room as me.”

  “Because you’re an unknown,” he sneers without preamble. “You just waltz into our prison, claiming you’re innocent, and already, you have the most powerful males at your feet. What are you, Nina?”

  It takes me two tries to swallow around the apple-sized knot in my throat. My hands tremble slightly. “It’s your turn.”

  He doesn’t even look at the board; his focus is fully, intently, on me.

  “Bishop. C8 to F5.”

  I nod once before considering the pieces with an almost clinical detachment. It’s all about moving the pawns to fit your needs. Destroying your enemies. It takes strategy and patience, both of which I have in abundance. Or, you can seek to eliminate the opponent’s most important piece—the king.

  Win the game.

  We play a few more rounds in silence. During that time, I’m able to capture two of his pawns and one of his bishops and he’s able to capture my knight.

  “I don’t know what I am,” I admit at last, twirling his captured piece between my fingers. “I thought I was human with a strange and uncanny ability to heal. I only recently learned that the supernatural exists.”

  “Kai told us about the Compound,” he says at last, once the silence contaminates the air like a sickly poison. My muscles lock together at his words as my breath leaves me. No. No. No. All I have ever wanted was to escape the Compound and the connotations that went with it. I don’t want Cain’s pity or his suspicion.

  I thought, maybe, that coming here could be my chance to start over. A chance to reinvent myself without the threat of the Compound hanging ominously over my head like a sharpened blade.