by Naomi Martin
“You are clear,” she huffs, and then storms out of the room.
Keene unfastens my shackles but leaves me to open them and get to my feet as he steps over to a cabinet. He presses his hand on the digital scanner and it unlocks with a sharp chime. He reaches in and pulls out a black box, closing and locking the cabinet again before coming back to me.
After setting the box down on the arm of the chair, he reaches behind me and does something to collar around my neck. It clicks and falls off, and Keene puts it aside. Next, he pulls the new collar out of the box and clasps it around my neck. I touch the metal and the cold smoothness of it makes me recoil. I pull on it, but it won’t come off and I growl in frustration.
Keene laughs softly. “This one is a little more… robust,” he says. “You shouldn’t be able to get around it.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“So, how did you do it?” he asks. “Burn the runes off your old collar, I mean.”
I shake my head. “I have no idea.”
“None? Really?” he asks. “You channeled and used your power. That shouldn’t be possible.”
I shake my head again. “It just happened.”
He purses his lips as he picks up the old collar and studies it. “I suppose I’ll have to look into this.”
I look up at him, my rage, fear, and frustration all crashing down on me at once. My eyes burn and my vision blurs as tears race down my cheeks.
“Why are you doing this to me? To everybody like me?”
He gives me what he probably thinks is a sympathetic smile, but it simply looks ghoulish on his face.
“Believe me, the alternative is worse,” he tells me. “There are elements within the government, some who have the President’s ear, who argue that people with powers should all be destroyed on sight. No questions asked.”
“And this is somehow better?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you? I grant you that this is not an ideal existence, but you are alive,” he offers. “And by conducting the experiments we do, it is possible that in time, we can discover and develop methods that will allow us all to live in peace.”
I look at him, my eyes narrowing. “What sort of methods?”
He shrugs. “We have a few things in the works. Nothing you need to concern yourself with right now,” he says. “Now, let’s get you back to your cell. You’ve been through quite enough today.”
I open my mouth to question him further but he shakes his head, so I close it again.
“We’ll speak more later,” he says. “And just so you know, this whole process does not have to be adversarial. We can work together toward a common good for your people and for mine.”
“You realize we’re all still human beings, don’t you?”
He shrugs. “Of a sort, I suppose,” he says. “But you and your kind, the elementals, the shifters, the vampires, and whatever else may be lurking out there—you’re not entirely human, are you?”
As he escorts me back to the prison, his words bang around in my mind. His people and mine. He’s already dehumanized us. Classified us as something other than human. It makes it easier for him—and Fry—to do the things they do to us. It makes us things, not people who can be hurt. Who can be killed. To them, we’re no better than lab rats.
It sends a chill running straight through me. That’s how the Nazis and the Japanese thought during World War II, when they were conducting brutal, often lethal, experiments on unwilling subjects.
By the time I make it back to the common room, I’m trembling, and my stomach is churning so wildly I feel ready to throw up.
Chapter Thirteen
Zane
From a dim corner in the common room, I watch as Raven comes back from her time with Fry and Keene. Her face is pale and drawn, her eyes are rimmed with red as if she’s been crying, and she looks shaken. It makes me frown and feel something akin to guilt that I hadn’t been able to protect her from the monsters who run this prison.
There’s something about Raven that makes me feel protective of her. Something that makes me… feel. It’s new to me, I’m not used to caring about anybody. I’ve been in this hellhole for eight long years now—over that time, I’ve had to craft a persona that I don’t particularly care for, but one that has allowed me to survive.
Building it, though, required me to become hardened. Jaded. It required me to hurt and to kill. More than a few people. But, over time, the things I did and the blood I’ve shed has made people leave me alone. Which is all I ever wanted in the first place. I don’t like hurting people. It’s not something I derive any sort of pleasure in. But people have learned that if you push me, I’m going to push back. And it isn’t going to end well for them.
Now, when they see me, they give me a wide berth. They fear me. They avoid looking at me, and nobody speaks to me. I’ve become something of a myth in this hellhole. A legend. More of a bogeyman, really. But whatever it takes to get people to leave me the hell alone, I guess.
The moment I laid eyes on Raven, though, I felt something inside of me shift. Physically as well as emotionally. There is something about her that resonates with me in ways I’m not used to. And it’s not just because she’s beautiful. She is, of course, but it’s so much more than that.
I can’t really explain it other than to say that something about her is allowing me to feel the power deep inside of me again. Power that had been cut off by the collar. Nothing is back to normal, but I can feel my abilities churning, just waiting for me to tap into them again. More than that, I’m feeling physically stronger than I was before she came. I can’t use my vampire strength or abilities, but I feel the warm glow of power inside of me. And that’s quite a bit more than I’ve felt in the years I’ve been stuck in this godforsaken hole in the ground.
It’s as if something inside of us is resonating, allowing us to circumvent the collar somehow to tap into our abilities. And I have to wonder if it’s the same with Gray and Elliot. The connection between them—between all of us—is powerful. I can feel it. I’m certain Raven can. I can see it in her eyes—she knows there’s a connection there.
I don’t think Gray and Elliot know what it all means just yet, but I think, on an instinctual level, they realize there’s something different about Raven. The three of us—shifter, elemental, and vampire—have all been drawn to her. Like moths to a flame, we’ve flocked to her. We’re all caught in her gravitational pull. Even if none of us truly knows what it means or how deep it runs, I know they feel it, too.
Raven is heading for her cell when she stops and turns her head toward me, as if she senses my presence. Our eyes meet and she gives me a wavering smile. She hesitates and, instead of continuing on to her cell, she turns and makes a beeline for me, which puts a small smile on my face.
I see him before she does and am about to rush over, but I stop myself. I don’t want her thinking I don’t believe she can take care of herself. I know she can. So when Clint, who’s wheezing like he’s just run a mile and hobbling along with a noticeable limp, intercepts her, I remain where I am. But I’m watching. I’m listening. And I absolutely will not let this get out of hand.
“You’re gonna pay for this, bitch,” he hisses at her.
I can smell Raven’s fear, even from where I am, but it’s quickly overcome by the scent of her rage. I watch as she draws herself up to her full height–still a good six inches shorter than Clint. But she’s fierce. She’s tenacious. She’s like a honey badger and, immortal or not, I most definitely would not antagonize her.
“Get out of my way, Clint,” she fires back.
“You think you can do this to me and get away with it?”
She narrows her eyes and glares at him. “Actually, yeah, I do.”
The common area has gone silent and I see that all eyes have turned to them. The other prisoners have been talking about Raven nonstop since she used her power on Clint in the yard. Some in awe, most of them in fear. The fact that she was able to access her power despite wearin
g a collar has made her something of a notorious figure in here. Perhaps even more notorious than me, since barely anybody has registered my presence in the common room—a place I seldom come.
I tense as Clint takes a step toward her, but Raven raises her hand as if she’s about to unleash some of her power on him and he flinches. He jerks himself backward so hard, he stumbles as he tries to get away from her. Clint trips on a chair and goes down on his back with an audible grunt and groan of pain. The common room erupts into laughter.
Everybody is roaring and pointing at Clint, catcalling and mocking him loudly. Red-faced and puffing wildly, he gets to his feet and glares at Raven before he turns and lumbers away. He’s used to being the bully, the one people fear and cower from. Being resoundingly and openly mocked for a change is not sitting well with him.
Raven gives me a small smile and walks over to sit down on the bench at my table, positioning herself so her back is to everybody in the common area. It takes a few minutes but the laughter and applause slowly taper off, plunging the place into a hushed buzz of whispered conversation. I see the curious glances directed her way, though, as well as the open resentment in the faces of some.
The fact that Raven has usurped Clint’s spot at the top of the pecking order, at least in the eyes of some, is going to cause her some problems. There are some who fancy themselves the tough guys and girls around here. They think they’re the alphas, the top of the food chain. They style themselves like feudal warlords, claiming their own little slice of the territory here and ruling over it with an iron fist. And now, Raven has made herself a threat to the natural order of things.
I sit down on the table next to her, my feet on the bench, and look down at Raven. She raises her eyes to me, and her smile seems brighter than the sunlight raining down from above. The light makes her smooth, soft, ivory-colored skin glow as if with a warmth from within. To me, it makes her even more beautiful.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
She nods. “He’s just an asshole.”
“That’s true,” I reply. “But that was not what I meant.”
Raven purses her lips. “I’m fine. Other than Sherman trying to rape me in a supply closet,” she spits.
I raise my eyebrows. “He tried to—”
She nods. “Yeah. But I got away,” she says. “They caught me, though, and Fry threatened to let him finish what he started if I didn’t play nice with her.”
I let out a low, angry breath. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Other than that, they did a basic check-up. Nothing else.”
“That will come soon,” I tell her.
A moment of silence stretches out between us and I have to fight to control the anger brewing inside of me. Captain Sherman has been a problem for quite a long time. He runs this place like it’s his own personal sex parlor, using his position and power to coerce many of the girls into granting him sexual favors. The people who run this place know about it, and yet they do nothing to stop him. Something is going to have to be done about him.
“Is everybody still staring at me?” she asks.
“No,” I respond. “Most of them are talking about you now.”
“Wonderful.”
I shrug. “It’s bound to happen when you make that sort of an entrance.”
“It’s not like I meant for that to happen.”
“But it happened anyway.”
She sighs and folds her hands on the table in front of her as I chuckle. I look around the common area and see people quickly turn away from my gaze. Apparently, I’ve still got a little bit of my mystique left about me.
“You’re the new bogeyman, you know,” I tell her with a chuckle. “You’ve stripped me of that title.”
She arches an eyebrow at me. “The bogeyman?”
He nods. “You scare them. The fact that you used your powers, despite having a collar on,” I say. “That’s something not even I can do. And, by default, that makes you the new bogeyman.”
“Oh, good. Just what I always wanted to be.”
“It’s a sign of respect, in a way,” he says. “It’s a reputation that will make them defer to you. Make them stay out of your way and not challenge you. Most of them, anyway.”
“Most?”
I nod. “There will always be some who are threatened by you,” I tell her. “But so long as you put them down when they do, they’ll leave you alone.”
I scoff. “And how am I supposed to put them down?” she asks, fingering the collar around her neck. “I can’t channel my power. With this new and improved collar, I can’t even feel it.”
“You’ll find a way,” I press. “You did with the last one. Nobody has ever been able to channel with a collar on before. And yet, you did.”
“It was a fluke. A chance thing.”
“Was it, though?”
She looks at me strangely. “What is that supposed to mean?”
A gentle smile touches my lips as I try to put into words the thoughts that have been running rampant through my mind ever since I first laid eyes on Raven. Ever since I first felt her presence.
“I think you are a lot more powerful than you realize,” I say slowly. “I think you have the power to break that collar—and a whole lot more.”
“I wish that was true,” she replies. “Keene put a new collar on me. Even more robust, as he called it. I can’t even feel my power right now, Zane.”
“Have you tried breaking it?”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t even trying to break the first one,” I say. “It was probably faulty.”
“Maybe. But then, maybe not.”
We fall silent for a moment and I can see her processing everything we’ve said. She’s scared, but she’s also determined. I don’t need to read her mind to know she has designs on getting out of this place. To do that, though, she’s going to need to be able to tap into and control her power. She is also going to have to stay alive.
“Be careful with Keene. He’s every bit as dangerous as she is,” I tell her. “He presents himself better than she does, makes himself seem more caring and reasonable. But he’s just as evil.”
“I noticed,” she replies. “He likes to pretend he’s not the monster she is.”
“But he is.”
She nods in agreement. “But he is.” Raven looks up at me, a curious expression on her face. “What is it they’re doing to us? Fry and Keene,” she says. “What kind of experiments are they running on us?”
“There are lot of theories running around out there,” I tell her.
“What’s the answer?”
“I don’t think there is one answer,” I admit. “I think they each have their own agenda.”
“Yeah, I noticed they don’t like each other very much,” she says. “About the only thing they agree on is that they hate us.”
A small laugh passes my lips. “That is true,” I say. “I know that Fry is working on something, some sort of a biological weapon that will wipe out people with abilities.”
“Jesus. You’re talking about a genocide.”
“But people like us make up less than one percent of the population of the country,” I tell her. “So, to them, it’s an acceptable loss. And they certainly wouldn’t call it a genocide.”
“You’re still talking about tens of thousands of people.”
“No, you are,” I correct her. “Never forget that to them, we’re not people. We’re… things. Monsters.”
“What about Keene?” she asks. “What’s his agenda?”
I shake my head. “That’s less clear. Although I don’t usually put much stock in rumors, I did hear that he is working on a side project,” I say. “I heard that he is trying to work on a serum that will give him his own powers. He wants to be immortal.”
“Which would make him very interested in you.”
I nod. “It is also why we have gone from having more than fifty vampires in the prison to just four of us.”
She whistles low and silen
ce descends over us again. I haven’t sat around just talking with somebody like this in a very long time. I used to have a couple of friends, but they were part of Keene’s experiments and one day, they simply never returned. Since then, I’ve pretty much kept to myself.
Raven looks up at me, the sunlight in the room sparkling off her icy blue eyes. I have the sudden urge to reach down and kiss her, but I refrain. She stirs something inside of me I haven’t felt before, and it’s strong. And when she smiles at me, it very nearly takes my breath away.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping in a crypt somewhere?” she asks with a lopsided grin. “It is daylight, after all.”
I laugh softly. “Do you believe every fairy tale you read?”
“I honestly know nothing about vampires, other than you need to drink blood to survive.”
“That is, unfortunately, true,” I tell her. “More specifically, it’s some of the enzymes in the blood we need. It was Keene who figured out how to manufacture it synthetically.”
“Well, that’s a positive thing, isn’t it?” asks Raven. “It means there may be a way for vampires to live among humans.”
“It would if they ever intended to let that happen,” I tell her. “It was manufactured out of necessity. Keene has to have live subjects for his experiments.”
“Right. That.”
“We don’t turn into bats, don’t turn into mist, can’t fly,” I explain. “And we don’t sparkle in the sunlight.”
“Garlic? Crosses?”
“Garbage,” I say. “Unless you’re using the cross to stab me in the heart.”
She laughs and it’s a cheery musical sound I don’t think I could ever tire of hearing. It’s such a strange thought to have, but one that somehow feels true. Raven has turned a lot of things upside down since she arrived, both in the prison and inside of me. I have never been a big fan of change, and this is wholly unexpected, but I can’t say I don’t like the feelings she stirs inside of me.