by K. N. Banet
“Hey, pretty, I love your skin. How much does it go for on the black market these days?”
“Heard snake eyes are lucky, sweet thing. I need a bit of luck. Maybe you can lend me yours some time.”
Chills went down my spine. The ones on the bottom floor always made the sly, darker comments that hit home. They weren’t comments anyone on a higher floor was stupid enough to scream down, but down on the first floor, they were ballsier and could get a hand on me if I went too close to the bars. I turned and met the gaze of one scarred son of a bitch with a toothy grin. He seemed pleased with himself.
“I won’t lend you my eyes, but my fangs are always willing to meet someone new,” I whispered, smiling a little as his eyes went big. I stepped closer, trying to exude confidence and superiority. I was the one in charge here. I was the one who would come if any of them stepped just enough out of line to get their sentences changed. I was their grim reaper, and they all knew it. “I haven’t played in a little while.”
“Not what I heard,” someone muttered. “Heard you killed Sinclair.”
I kept the smile and shrugged. “I bet you have. I’ve been itching to start a new game.”
“Kaliya,” Raphael whispered softly and tugged gently, not enough to move me but enough to tell me he wanted to keep moving.
“Yeah, Kaliya…get moving like the little boyfriend wants you to. Never knew you to keep backup, but it’s cute to see you’ve finally found someone,” someone teased. I wished I knew all of their names and species. I had no idea who this guy was. The only thing he couldn’t be was a vampire. Those were kept underground for their own security reasons, and generally, vampires didn’t send their bad apples to the prison. There were only a couple being kept there.
“You should honestly be more worried that I have backup now,” I said, my fangs dropping. “It means there’s finally someone who can keep up and kill well enough, I trust them.” I started walking again, knowing it was time to end this little scene. Everything looked fine, and the prison was running business-as-usual in the southern cell block. It was the simpler of the two cell blocks and infinitely less complex to look over than the vampire prison in the basement.
We left the cell block, and I looked down at Raphael’s hand, frowning.
“Care to explain?” I asked, trying to ignore the pleasurable heat of his skin.
“I…I don’t know,” he said softly, letting go. “I’m sorry. It just happened, and I decided to roll with it.”
“You know, you’re allowed to be honest with me,” I reminded him, ignoring Tarak’s confused and concerned state. The Alpha didn’t like strangeness in his prison, and this was definitely strangeness. Me telling some guy to be honest while he’s grabbing me? Cassius never touched me like that in public, but Raphael just did.
“I do, but…” He shook his head. “What’s next? I don’t like being here.”
Me neither, Raph.
“There are no vampires in attendance right now, so we’re going directly to the northern cell block,” Tarak answered before I could say anything. “No need to look over the underground facilities because they’re empty.”
“Of course,” I said, sighing. “To the northern cell block, we go…” I tried to contain my disgust with the idea, considering how I felt about the criminals held there. “Are we doing solitary after that?”
“There’s no one in solitary, but I’ll let you walk through,” Tarak replied. He started walking again, and I followed with Raphael, wondering when my not-human charge would start asking the questions I had a feeling he really wanted to ask.
We were halfway there when it began.
“Is there any difference between the two cell blocks? Or are they both like that?”
“Northern cell block contains individuals who have life sentences for whatever reason,” Tarak answered. He was frowning when he turned back to us. “Did you explain any of this to him?”
“I explained the security but not the intricacies of prisoner placement.” I pushed my hands into my pockets. “You know I don’t care what their sentence is. They’re the ones who perpetrate some evil shit in our world and nearly expose us to humans. I don’t care if the ones in the southern block are only serving timed sentences. I don’t see why anyone should. When they get out, they’ll be watched, and they’ll cross the line again, and I’ll get called in to clean up.”
“You don’t think people can be reformed?” Raphael asked, sounding less curious and more expectant of my answer.
“Not really,” I answered, not elaborating. One in one hundred wouldn’t become a repeat offender, and because these were still alive, they would always have a chance to screw it up. We walked silently for a moment, and I looked into the yard in the center of the compound, with only one edge pointing to the outside world. The building was in a large U shape, making it easy to see the yard from any inside wall, like Tarak’s office. There weren’t many out. I knew the times were staggered to keep it as safe as possible, but it wasn’t a totally effective plan. There were still fights out there, and people died before the guards could break it up.
“Do we need to check out there?” my not-human companion inquired, obviously trying to cover up some emotion. Since seeing the southern cell block, he’d turned stiff, and it grew more obvious every step.
“No, I don’t go into the yard. Too much of a chance for trouble,” I explained, stopping to stare out the window. There were no recognizable faces out there, something I was both grateful and annoyed with. The northern cell block was going to be packed. When I started walking again, Raphael stuck to my side like he was glued there.
The security sounded when we walked through the guard post into the northern cell block. There was one key difference between the two cell blocks everyone noticed—the noise. It always got me when I walked into the silent northern cell block and looked at the doors. This three-story section wasn’t full like the southern block, and they didn’t share cells. Every room held an individual, and the doors were solid, except for a very small window where one could look in or out of the cell.
“You’re going to make me walk the entire cell block, aren’t you? You're going to make me do Wesley’s prison, too?” I asked Tarak softly as we stood by the entry.
“Always do for the northern cell block. This is routine, Kaliya. Let’s just get it done. And no, we’re not going to fuck with Wesley today. He’s been agitated recently.” He didn’t sound particularly annoyed, but he wasn’t pleased. Normally, I did this walkthrough with Dian because Tarak hated doing this procedural stuff for Alphas who were stronger than him. Most werewolf Alphas hated this kind of stuff. They ruled their little corner of the world and ignored the others unless someone intruded on their space. I represented power over Tarak, and he didn’t like it on an instinctual level.
“Wow,” Raphael whispered. “Why are they all so quiet?”
“Northern cell block, the worst of the worst,” I reminded him. “They don’t need to be blowhards. Among their ranks, a naga who’s considered the most proficient serial killer of the last five hundred years, a fae princess, daughter of Titania and Oberon, with a knack for skinning people alive—” Saying that caused someone to giggle hysterically on the second floor. That made me take a pause and reconsider telling Raphael more. There was more to that fae, but it suddenly made my skin itch to think about, and I could only imagine how Raphael felt without even knowing all the details. “And others.”
“Fuck,” he mumbled.
“Yup.” I stepped closer to the cell doors. I had to look inside of these to see the inmates. These were people of power, importance, rarity, and more. They had done horrendous things, but for whatever reason, they weren’t executed.
Seeing them always left a bad taste in my mouth. This cell block made me uncomfortable in ways that made me feel vulnerable. These supernaturals were sick, and they all unabashedly knew it. Many were damn right proud they ended up getting away with what they had done.
“Kaliya
,” a singsong voice called. “Are you still with my nephew, sweet serpent?”
I looked up for a moment and wondered why she was talking today. Normally, she was quiet, and I appreciated that. She had that happy-go-lucky thing that freaked me out.
“Nephew?”
“Remember what I said. Fae were born of two people, either with each other or with humans. Fae royalty are children of Oberon of the light and Titania of the dark—Cassius, his parents, and his direct relatives. She’s a princess, one of them. She’s his aunt. I promise you, they aren’t close.” Swallowing, I ignored the woman and looked into the first cell. Sometimes, these motherfuckers liked to spook me, and I wasn’t really in the mood for that shit today. I was already jumpy because Raphael was with me. I was certain he was the cause of my extra layer of discomfort.
I caught sight of the prisoner, lying on his bed, staring at me with hooded eyes. He gave me a very small smile, then closed his eyes.
“This is Leviathan,” Tarak started explaining, probably to Raphael, who was hovering over my shoulder because I sure as hell didn’t need to know who was who. “The one who—”
“We don’t need a rundown on every one of them,” I snapped. “He doesn’t need to hear about all of them.”
“It’s fine—”
“I want you to be able to sleep tonight,” I muttered, walking to the next door and leaving them standing in front of Levi. His name wasn’t fucking Leviathan. It was Levi, and I hated when people let these monsters use their special little nicknames to stroke their own egos when they had one.
I stopped in front of the next door and looked in to find another healthy criminal, then the next door and so on. We walked up a metal staircase to the second floor, and two doors in, I was confronted with eyes I didn’t want to see.
“Niece,” Nakul whispered so softly, I almost missed it. He was on the other side of the cell and walked closer, giving me a look of hopefulness and deep concern. I knew the stare, but I hadn’t seen it since I was a child. “How is your work? Are you well?”
I didn’t respond, staring at him for a moment. He had deep brown, nearly black—just like mine—eyes that seemed endless. He looked healthy, not a day older than the day his wife and son died. Not a day older than the day I caught him. There was over a century of history between us, a lifetime for me, but I grew up and changed, becoming the woman I was. He stayed the same. He was centuries older than me.
“We need to speak today,” he said, leaning on the door, his long black hair falling to cover his face. “Please.”
“What could you possibly ever say to me?” I finally asked. “Would you apologize for the killing?”
“You kill too,” he said with a sigh. “Don’t—”
“I don’t kill children,” I hissed. “You did. Would still be doing it if not for me. I kill criminals like you, not children. Never children.”
“I wasn’t…”
“I don’t need to hear it. Be quiet.” I started walking to the other cell. “I’m only here for a standard review and—”
“That’s why we need to speak—”
“NOW!” someone roared.
I was turning back to him, ready to lay into him, practically foaming at the mouth when the world turned red from the overhead lights, and a screeching sound pierced my ears. Mechanical noises could be heard everywhere, and someone started shouting as I grabbed Raphael and felt him grasp for me as well.
I pulled him back just in time to stop a cell door from slamming into him, backing up into the bars as all the doors began to open. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me into his chest for some reason as if he wanted to protect me. Then an explosion blew out the wall to the yard and sent us into the wall.
7
Chapter Seven
I didn’t have time to think as my back hit concrete before I fell to the ground. For a moment, I was too dazed to understand what had just happened. I was numb and paralyzed, uncomprehending. It took a moment to notice, but I finally found something to latch onto, a sensation I could never ignore, even when I tried—Raphael over me, his body my only indication I was alive. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and it held me in the moment and reminded me something was wrong. I tried to breathe, getting a lungful of dust and debris. My seizing lungs were even more of an indication I wasn’t out of the mortal plane yet. Thinking of dust and smoke gave me the last piece I needed to figure out, even dazed, what the hell had just happened.
“Kaliya?” he groaned. My vision was blurry and obscured, but I could make out the rough angles of his face, the dark hair, and the rough size of him. Much after that was hard since my head hurt, and the thick smoke was making my eyes water.
“Raphael, move,” I said, gasping for air. He wasn’t heavy on me, but between him and the smoke, I needed air, and I wasn’t getting enough. On top of that, we were in a bad position—a very bad position.
“What—”
I didn’t hear the rest because he was suddenly gone, a blur of his body moving away all I could see. I blinked several times, trying to clear my vision, wondering who was standing over me. My ears were ringing, but dark shapes danced in front of me. One was taken out by one. Then a third showed up. I needed to move, but before I could find my feet, something slammed into my ribs, and I was sent over rubble and into a flat object. I scrambled to grab onto anything, finding a handle to a cell door to use as leverage and pulled myself to my feet. I was able to make it to my feet this time, but it didn’t prepare me for a mean right hook that sent my head into the concrete wall. My ears rang painfully, but I was able to get a view of my attacker. I didn’t have any bad blood with the werewolf except for the fact I was an Executioner, and he was a high-security inmate. By the look on his face, he wanted me dead during the madhouse and was willing to see it happen.
Ducking, I was able to dodge his second swing and pulled out a dagger. It was sloppy, but I was able to shove it into his gut as I stumbled away from the door and wall. Desperate, I stabbed him repeatedly, glad I carried silver at all times, just in case. Silver and iron were the two things every supernatural needed.
Blood poured on my hand, hot and fast, but I kept stabbing, hoping I hit something vital as the werewolf screamed and brought an elbow down on my back, knocking me down. He was able to stagger away from me, but when I looked up, I saw my job was done. He fell in front of me, bleeding out fast. With that over, I knew what I had to do, and I needed to do it fast.
I needed to find Raphael.
I tried to steady myself on my feet as another explosion rattled the building, but it was further away and was quickly followed by a second.
I started running for the stairs and tripped over several objects, mostly debris. When my foot hit something soft, I looked down, and my stomach dropped for a moment at the black pant leg I saw under a rock. I followed the leg to find who it was attached to and saw Tarak, wide-eyed and in shock.
“Fuck,” I muttered, realizing running for my life wasn’t an option. I threw a glance over my shoulder, saw no one, then started to pull stuff off of Tarak. “I’ve got you. I’m going to free you then we need to get the fuck out, Warden. Do you understand me? You, Raphael, and I are getting out of here. I’m not dying here. Neither are you.”
His eyes found me, and something passed through them, but I didn’t know what, unable to decipher whatever he was feeling other than pain.
A roar was the only thing that pulled my attention away from Tarak, and I spun to see Raphael locked in a fight with a fucking redcap who didn’t have a glamour up. Towering to nearly seven and a half feet, I knew the fae-type, but not well. What I did know was this particular redcap was much larger than most, and he was a fucking monster.
“Raphael! Get away from him!” I screamed as the two brutes threw punches at each other. Blood flew, but I didn’t know whose.
“You should worry about me,” someone said softly. My pulse jumped as I slowly moved my gaze to the right and saw another escapee.
“W
hy should I do that?” I asked softly, seeing the very angry witch with a fanged smile. Every single tooth was sharpened to a point like a mouth of shark teeth. Some witches went off the deep end. This one was a clear example. To amplify his own power, he had sacrificed supernaturals and somehow turned himself into something strange and unique. The reason he wasn’t executed was everyone wanted to know how and what he'd done to himself.
Levi was a fucking monster.
He didn’t answer. By the way he was raising his arms and the words coming out of his mouth, I realized the physical protections weren’t the only thing down. Prisoners couldn’t normally use their magic.
Well, now they can, Kaliya. Maybe I should hurry up, stop being shocked, and just start killing them.
The idea was sound enough, so I started doing just that. I didn’t wait for Levi to finish. I reached to my holster and pulled my sidearm. His eyes widened as he realized I was very much armed and deadly. He jumped off the ruined walkway before his spell was done, and I started firing. I didn’t know if I hit him, and at that moment, I didn’t have a chance to care. He was gone, and I needed to help a werewolf Alpha. I turned back to Tarak, finally able to help him again. Reaching out, I touched his neck, trying to find his pulse. It was so faint. I put that aside and tried to move the last rock off him.
Move, you fucking rock. I need to get Tarak help. He’s going to die. I can’t let someone die right now. Not here. Not like this.
He stopped me with a single, gentle touch, putting a hand over one of mine.
“Crushed,” he whispered.
I paused for a second, letting that single, weak word penetrate the madness of my thoughts.
“Tarak,” I gasped, pulling back only enough to really take in the last rock. It was on his pelvis, and…I couldn’t find his pelvis. There was only a lot of blood, and I realized what he meant.
There was only so much supernaturals could heal from. If he was a vampire, giving him blood would help him heal while moving the rock. As a werewolf, he healed fast but not that fast. He would bleed out sooner or later, but that was the only option. In the madhouse of a massive prison break, there would be no way to get him the help he needed to possibly survive. Even with the help, there wasn’t much hope. His pelvis wouldn’t heal right due to the injury. He’d be wheelchair-bound in human form and crippled in werewolf form. He’d never be able to hold a pack and as an Alpha, he would get fought constantly.
