Hexes and Handcuffs: A Limited Edition Collection of Supernatural Prison Stories

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Hexes and Handcuffs: A Limited Edition Collection of Supernatural Prison Stories Page 45

by Margo Bond Collins


  “Not yet,” Crush said. “We need to come up with some sort of agreement. Because we have a job to do and, like it or not, you’re the job.”

  “I am not a job.”

  “A pretty job,” Crush conceded, “but a job.”

  “Listen,” I said, “we want to help. If you’re working on something, surely three is better than one, right? And those guys were males, right? Can you go to the dude side? No? Exactly. We can be assets to you, help you do whatever it is you’re doing.”

  She huffed out a breath. “This is insane.”

  “Question,” Crush said.

  She arched a brow. “What.” It wasn’t even a question, just a flat statement as if daring him to keep going.

  Crush, of course, was oblivious. It was his thing. “What is a educist?”

  “Seriously?” She looked at him, to me, and back to Crush. “I draw magic into objects. Not everyone can do it or do it well, anyway. And it’s like rune magic, but I don’t need the sigils to draw the magic.”

  “Neat.”

  She looked a little confused at his enthusiastic acceptance, but then again, she’d never met a gargoyle before.

  “Tell you what, Poppy. We meant what we said about you telling us what to do. We’re both fine with that.” I looked to Crush, and he nodded. “Let us help you. Let us do what we came here to do, too. It’s a win-win.”

  “‘A win-win,’ huh?” She sized us up and did I see her eyes roam in places a woman who despised us would never let her eyes roam? I thought I did. Oh yeah. “Fine. We work together. I’m not interested in being your boss and telling you what to do, however tempting. That’s the way the magi work. We are a team if you insist on it.”

  “A team,” Crush said. “I like it.”

  I shrugged. “Sounds great to me.” I stuck my hand out, palm down. Crush put his hand on mine and then we both looked at Poppy.

  “What?”

  “Put your hand on.”

  She looked like we’d asked her to touch something nasty … like Crush’s ball sack after a wrestle match in the lava by Jonto’s volcano.

  “Go on, it’s tradition.”

  “Not my tradition,” she groused, but she finally placed her hand on top of Crushs’s.

  Together, we shouted ‘Teamwork!’ and tossed our hands in the air. She stared at us as if we were nutballs.

  Maybe she was right.

  I had a feeling I was going to love working with her.

  I had a feeling she was going to keep us both on our toes and though it wasn’t on my boulder list, I mentally added one more thing—to see what it would be like to kiss Poppy Ballinger.

  The End

  Want more?

  Enjoyed this story? Be sure to leave a review! Poppy’s first book—Captured Magic: part of the Magic, Mayhem, & Rebellion series—will be coming in March! Preorder now! You can also find out who Korri is and meet her demons by picking up the Curses, Charms, and Incantations series. Books 1 and 2 are out now! Check out the links below.

  About the Author

  Jen Ponce lives in the Panhandle of Nebraska with her boys, her animals, and a ridiculous number of books. She’s interested in everything magical, and she may have an unholy love for spiders.

  Want to keep up to date on what’s happening in Jen’s world? Check out the links below.

  Join Jen Online

  www.JenniferPonce.com

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  Read More of Jen’s Books

  Curses, Charms, & Incantations (Reverse Harem)

  Corpse Curses: Book 1

  Caustic Charms: Book 2

  Magic, Mayhem, & Rebellion (Reverse Harem

  Captured Magic: Book 1

  Raster City Series (Reverse Harem)

  Raster City Rebel: Book 1

  Raster City Rogues: Book 2

  Raster City Rumble: Book 3

  Devany Miller Series (Dark Urban Fantasy)

  The Bazaar: Book 1

  Slip Song: Book 2

  Demon’s Cradle: Book 3

  World Weaver: Book 4

  Soul Hook: Book 5

  Other books:

  Blood Curse

  Bug Queen

  Burning the Devil

  The Prison of Despair

  The Vampire Prison Experiment Series

  D.A. Stein

  Chapter One

  We raced across the dry desert earth—Virel appeared to be as exhausted as I was, his face haggard, arms and legs pumping. Who knew vampires didn’t have an endless energy reserve? I was so tired, my limbs leaden as I fell behind. He turned his head slightly as he yelled at me to keep going before he glanced forward again. Up ahead, a large outcropping appeared, looming large, and Virel sped faster as if he wasn’t tired, gesturing for me to hurry up. But it was almost like he was moving in slow motion as I slipped on the shifting sand. He disappeared from my sight as he circled around the mass of boulders. When I approached the outcropping, I heard a scream and then silence. Using the last bit of strength I had, I sped up to follow the path Virel had used, only to come upon…nothing.

  Forcing my legs to stop, I leaned to rest my shoulder against a huge boulder that tipped out further than the others. I panted in exhaustion, and my chest hurt from my taxed lungs, unable to understand where Virel could have gone. That scream I’d heard had been one of fear and pain, so where could he be?

  Pushing myself away from the mountain of stones with heavy burning legs, I clomped gracefully around, which took a few minutes considering how large this cluster of boulders was. How could he have disappeared so fast? And now I was alone in the desert of what had once been called Nevada.

  Pivoting around in a circle trying to gather my bearings, I heard a sound in the distance: a pounding whomp-whomp noise I had never heard before, and it made me wary enough to try and hide. But there was nowhere for me to hide behind or under, only the huge outcropping of boulders. The desert was devoid of trees or life or even dead growth of any kind. I was trapped.

  Glancing up at the sky, the brilliant and hot rays of sunlight beat down on me as I huddled under part of the rock formation that jutted out enough for me to crouch below, making myself as small a target as I could.

  All I could do was wait while my heart pounded in my chest, the movements racing up my veins and into my head, making it thump in time with the beat of my heart. The whomp-whomp drew closer, and the temptation to stand up and look around was almost overwhelming, but I resisted, instead listening to my instincts that told me to delay.

  Wait. Wait. Don’t look. Stay, I repeated this over and over in my mind, but the urge to look was almost irresistible and my nerves were edgy with tension. I sat back on my heels and tilted my head, my hearing on alert as the noises started to lessen and wind down.

  Not being able to stand, quietly, I ducked under a stone overhang to creep on my hands and knees, tentatively poking my head out and immediately observing the huge metal creature sitting quiet and watching but unmoving. Was the metal creature sleeping?

  As I stood, I listened for any kind of uproar or even a whisper from the metal beast, but its eyes remained fixed and glassy. Had it died upon landing?

  Creeping forward, I tried to keep one eye on both, where I was going and the silent creature, but one minute I was walking and the next I tumbled to my hands and knees… Oww. I raised my hands and stared at the heels as blood oozed from the cuts the sand and stones had caused from my fall. I wiped them on my jean-clad thighs, but I only pushed the sand deeper into the wounds. Grumbling to myself at my inattention, I gathered my feet underneath me to stand and almost fell. My left knee gave way, causing me to stumble and wave my arms around, one hand grasping to catch my balance on a jutting protrusion of rock overhead. I leaned against my forearm that now rested against the stone as I glanced down and tried to put weight on my injured knee. Shit.

  With one hand on the stone ledge, I took a limping step that made me re
alize the only thing holding me up was the rock formation.

  Limp. Step, holding onto the rocks.

  Limp. Step, holding onto the rocks.

  This wasn’t going to work, and I sighed, worrying my bottom lip with my teeth as I scanned the area. Where was that creature hiding?

  I continued my slow limp-step movements, ignoring the pain in my knee until I reached the end of the formation and could see the desert without an interrupted view. Sticking my head out, I tried to stop the trembling of my chin as I wrapped my arms around myself, hunching down slightly and hoping I could make myself less of a target. As I gazed past the rock formation, the huge metal creature peered at me with its humongous blank stare. Fear froze me instantly.

  “Look! There’s another! Get her,” a rumbling voice shouted.

  Whipping around, two giant muscle-bulging vampires pointed at me, as a hand grabbed me by my hair at the back of my head, yanking so hard he almost pulled it out. Screaming, and holding him by his wrist, my strength was no match for the hand gripping me.

  My body turned sideways as I had to practically run, even with my twisted knee, to keep up with him. Releasing me, I was thrown at the feet of the other two men and onto my hands and knees, the grains of sand digging into my already-bloody palms.

  “Look at that mane of red hair. I bet she’s as fiery a slut as that hair.” One of the men licked his lips as he gazed down at me, pure lust evident on his face.

  “Look at her delicate features and small size. She’s a high-bred one and not for us.” The other observed, a dispassionate tone to his voice as he peered down at me with disinterest.

  “There’s no one here now but us,” the first vampire protested as he took a step closer, making me shiver and draw away. “We can each have a taste. She’s a vampire, no matter how high born. She’ll heal. Eventually.” He drew the last word out, licking his lips again, and as he smirked, an unkind smile spread across his face—his gaze touched me from head to toe before settling on my breasts.

  He leaned down and reached out to grab me, but another hand grabbed his forearm before he could touch me.

  “No touching the merchandise,” the second vampire ordered.

  The third, the one who’d caught me, grabbed my bicep to haul me up, my knee already healed enough to stand and walk on. Although, being hurried along almost on my tiptoes didn’t help the healing process any. Picking me up by the back of my head and tossing me into the metal beast like I was trash didn’t help my healing, either. In fact, it made it worse by adding more bruises and a sprained shoulder to the situation. But obviously, they didn’t care.

  “Come on. Let’s go.” He grunted to the others as I scrambled the best I could to a corner of the machine. I now knew this to be one of the ancient marvels of scientific knowledge we had mostly lost in the two hundred years since the Fourth World War. Few had survived the trials of time. I knew these vampires were too strong for me to escape from, so I needed to bide my time. One of them mentioned capturing another, so maybe that was Virel. I hoped so, or maybe I didn’t. I’d hate for him to be in the same condition I was in, but then again, I wouldn’t be alone.

  Hiding against the back wall, I waited for the remainder of my injuries to heal as I watched the three men, one flying the contraption, the other two guarding me as if I could attack them. Biding my time, I reminded myself.

  “Where are we going?” I asked warily, but my voice was hoarse with the weariness that threatened to overtake me. My parents were gone. My engagement to Virel had been arranged just before their deaths—a freak mud avalanche accident had overcome them on their morning ride. Even after two hundred years together, they’d been just as in love the moment of their deaths as they’d been the moment they met. That’s what they had hoped for Virel and me, but even though we’d had sex, there was no spark between us. We had only been going through the motions. I hadn’t even orgasmed.

  As I asked my question, the two guards only stared at me as if I weren’t there. As if they could see right through me. I had become a ghost.

  “Where are we going?” The second guard repeated my question, an obnoxious smirk splitting his unpleasant face.

  “To hell.”

  Chapter Two

  The whirling machine dropped to land with discordant racket from the gyrating blades above, to touch on the moist soil of NorCal Prison. Which was described as “hell” to me.

  As the blades of the machine whirred at a slower pace, dead leaves covered the rich lawn of the empty expanse for the landing area for the helicopter. The metal runner blades that served to hold the huge machine sank deep into the wet ground with a squelching sound.

  The two guards who had stayed with me jumped down, one of them motioning for me to hurry over, as the third stayed up front in the brains of the cabin.

  Slinking over to my wardens, I kneeled before I descended, which was taken away from me by one of them grabbing me by my arm and tossing me on the muddy ground. They were certainly treating the merchandise awfully bad. But then they knew I’d heal fast enough for no one to notice.

  My hands sank into the muddy ground, seizing handfuls of mud into my grasp as I briefly considered throwing the clods at the men. But, I resisted the temptation, knowing it would only be worse for me in the end.

  I hefted myself to my feet, straightening and trying to be ready for what they decided to throw at me next. Before I knew it, long chains were wrapped around my wrists, and they connected to my ankles—the burning of the silver that must have been in them, an agony that turned my skin red and raw.

  Walking in small steps that the chains allowed, the wardens marched me from the cleared zone of the helipad to the nearby prison.

  The sprawling stone structure appeared to be at least three stories in height, with thick mist covering the third floor of the building, surrounded by metal fencing with rolled barbed wire along the top. Every hundred feet or so, singular buildings towered over the prison, with guards inside holding rifles—standing, watching.

  The guards led me to a doorway and announced their names before a loud buzz answered them, and a door clicked open. They led me through the entrance, and I swiveled my head to view the door closing on its own. Such marvels here.

  As we walked, there was something strange that, at first, I couldn’t put my finger on, but as I glanced around, I noticed the heavy mist—the silence complete, except for a rhythmic pounding. Not like the pounding of a heart, more like the hammering or beating of something against another.

  The closer we came to the cold stone building, the more I attempted to slow my footsteps. I was scared out of my mind of what awaited me inside. My body shivered and my breath caught, and I thought I would start choking as dread oozed through my vocal cords, thickening in the back of my throat. Coughing, I bent over, my hands waving in front of me, and then I grasped my throat, unable to bring air into my lungs. I saw sparking lights that began blinding my vision.

  “What’s wrong with her?” one of the guards shouted as he clutched me by the back of my neck, shaking me as if I were a rat caught by a cat.

  The third guard stalked over to us, and I hoped I would die. Choking on my fear and despair wasn’t my first choice on how to die, but if it would get me out of this situation, I was agreeable.

  He grabbed me by my shoulders as blackness edged my vision, my chained hands clawing at my throat. He thrust me on my back and onto the ground, tipping my head back and covering my mouth with his, he blew forcefully into mine. His garlic-tainted breath whooshed down the back of my throat, into my lungs, where I attempted to force his foul-tasting exhale back out, but a knot plugged my airways. He flipped me over onto my front, turning my head to the side, and exerted pressure on my back hard enough for the ball to expel. Gasping in great gulps of fresh air, I leaned on one forearm staring at the glob of grossness that had just come out of me.

  “She can’t walk, so carry her in,” he ordered as he manhandled me, grabbing me by my bicep to hold me out to the other
men as if I were a doll.

  One of the other men grabbed me, tossing me over his shoulder and grumbling his dissatisfaction, while the other two guards stalked toward the prison as I hung like a side of meat, still weak from choking.

  Step by step, they prowled closer to the dark sinister goal, where the thumping seemed to have a life of its own. One of the guards stepped up to the heavy, metal double doors that must have stood twenty-feet high from floor to ceiling. Only a very strong man would be able to open them. The guard holding me over his shoulder turned to look behind him, allowing me to see one of the other guards press a button that activated a loud clanging. I could hear it from where we were standing outside. As we waited, my guard glanced around us as if doubting our safety.

  All I needed was to escape. Even though I was within the prison fence, I wasn’t within the walls of the prison. I wasn’t inside yet. But how could I, a hundred- and twenty-pound woman, fight against three men over two hundred and fifty pounds each. No way. Especially as weak as I still was, but, my strength was returning fast. I just needed a plan to escape.

  Since I had no other choice but to enter this place of despair, I would somehow find a way to leave. There had to be a way out.

  Door creaking like an old horror movie my mother showed me as a kid, it moved inward, but only one door opened. Slow like molasses, the door continued to scrape forward until another burly guard was revealed: easily six feet five or six feet six. Where did they find these vampires? They must be breeding them just to be guards. The guard at the door stepped back after giving a nod. We entered, and the man carrying me slid an arm under my belly, only to shove me away from him. He tossed me so far, I fell to my hands and knees, the sharp edges of the stones cutting into my palms, again.

 

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