Sins of the Father: A Paranormal Prison Romance (Sinfully Sacrified Book 1)

by Mary E. Twomey

  His smile is endearing. “A safe space? Only people who’ve been through therapy talk like that.” When I blush, he grins. “I think it’s cute.” He squeezes my hip. “Sounds good, Arly. Cheers. We’ll make it ours, not theirs.”

  His words from last night when he encouraged me to make the darkness mine, and not something I was a victim of, hit me with a stroke of hope this morning.

  Cass stirs on the top bunk across from us, and finally, I know I have to leave my comfort object. “Morning, crew.” She sits up, stretching her arms over her head. “Ten minutes before they open the doors. Anyone mind if Charlotte takes the floor? Meditating on her mattress doesn’t do it for her. She likes to be on the ground.”

  “How do you know the time? I’ve not seen a clock since I got in here.” I sit up, my hand still glued to Gray’s chest.

  “Internal perfection. I just know. You doing okay?” Her eyes flick across the way to me, and a cat-like grin curls the corners of her mouth. “More than okay, I see.”

  I ignore the insinuation.

  Charlotte slinks to the floor, her eyes closed as she crosses her legs and sets her opened palms atop her knees.

  I don’t meditate. Maybe I should; I just never have. I watch her with unconcealed fascination, as if eyesight alone might help me absorb the calm she emanates. If I was the type of fae who read auras, like Mum could, Charlotte’s would be a brilliant blue. Mum told me that’s for peace.

  As if she can feel my gaze on her, Charlotte’s eyes open and lock on mine. When she motions me forward, apologies stammer out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I’ve never seen anyone meditate in real life before.”

  Charlotte tilts her head to the side and motions me forward again. She beckons Gray in the same way. Then she turns to Cass with a serious expression and nods once.

  There’s a significance there, but I don’t understand it. Something in the air turns, and goosebumps break out over my arms.

  All sense of levity drains from Cass. “Charlotte thinks the next phase in the plan to set us all free is ready. We all need to do this together.”

  I want to ask what’s so special about sitting in a circle on the floor, but that’s probably rude to say out loud.

  Cass is already at Charlotte’s side, mimicking the perfect meditative pose. Gray and I exchange hesitant looks, but comply, because Charlotte asks for so little in life.

  I can sit near her and pretend to meditate. Sure.

  We’re in a circle, and I do as Charlotte does, closing my eyes. Upon Cass’ instructions, my breath trails in through my nose and out through my mouth. There are no more words, no distractions. There’s a quietness that transcends the chaos my brain’s been stuck in since I was sentenced.

  Gray holds my left hand, and then Cass picks up my right, resting our twined hands atop their knees. I hear a shifting of movement that makes me think Charlotte is holding their hands as well.

  The moment we’re all connected, a hum begins to fill my chest. It’s a low-pitched, steady thrum that does this odd mix of vibrating and calming at once. I’m not making the noise. It’s coming from my bones. Or through my bones. I’m not exactly sure.

  I’m oddly aware of the heat coming from Gray on my left, and the coolness coming from Cass on my right. The air smells sweet, like too much cinnamon mixed with a pang of coconut oil and the detergent stink of soap, all set to the background of the cold, unpolished stench of the concrete. I guess all those things existed in the room before, but they’re amplified now.

  A waft of air hits me in the face, so my eyes open. Charlotte’s staring at me, her lips frozen in an “O” shape, so I’m guessing she’s the one who blew the air at me.

  I make to speak, but she squints her eyes and the hum grows louder, now rattling my teeth, though not uncomfortably. There’s almost an addictive quality to it, like I never want this vibration to stop.

  A quiet, female voice whispers in my mind, “Take them off.”

  I look around, but no one’s spoken.

  “Take them off,” the voice repeats, sending a chill down my spine.

  I want to answer that I don’t know what the voice means, so I can promptly ignore it, but an instinct I didn’t know I had understands. Intuitively I know that the voice wants me to take my cuffs off.

  But I can’t. They’re indestructible, from what I was told, and have been fitted with a key I don’t have access to. That’s kind of the whole point. They don’t want us to use magic in here. We’re easier to control when we have no wild cards to play.

  “Take them off,” the voice urges, this time more forcefully.

  Since the calling is imaginary, I answer with imaginary obedience. I see myself finding a key that I pry from a glowing spot in my chest I never noticed before. Then I fit the key into the lock on the cuff and turn it, smiling when one bracelet opens in my mind’s eye.

  I do the same to the other, and the voice giggles.

  “Now the others.”

  My eyes are closed and I’m still holding on to Gray and Cass. But in my mind’s eye, I see myself flitting around them, sliding my key into their locks and turning it, freeing their magic one wrist at a time.

  When I free Charlotte, she gasps, and her breathing starts to syncopate, as if she’s on the verge of happy tears.

  But it’s not real. I haven’t moved.

  Still, it settles the voice in my mind, which goes away, its giggles fading.

  I don’t think I’m one for meditation.

  I open my eyes to say as much, and it’s then that I see a faint glow of royal blue emanating from Charlotte, like a watercolor painting come to life.

  My mouth drops open as I take in what shouldn’t be happening. “It can’t be real. You’re…” I turn to Cass, whose aura is yellow with streaks of blue, like a sky trying to decide if it’s going to let the sunshine invade.

  Gray is blinking at me like I’m acting weird, and not like he’s surrounded by the most beautiful blue-green swirls I’ve ever seen. I want to touch them, to stroke the curls, so in the thick of my insanity, that’s exactly what I do.

  I set his hand atop my knee so we don’t lose our connection, then I reach out and flutter my fingers around the perfect swirls.

  The blue and green react to my touch, wrapping around my middle finger and drawing me closer.

  I’m not touching Gray’s body at all, but his eyes shut and he shivers with pleasure as if it’s his nipple I’m toying with. His tongue sweeps the plump swell of his lower lip. His breathing grows heavy with what can only be described as need.

  When I run my hand over one of the more dramatic curves of color near his cheek, he bursts out with a loud and frantic, “You can’t do that! Whatever it is, you’re shifter and I’m fae.” He breaks the connection and scoots back, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m shifter and you’re fae. Sleeping beside each other is one thing, but you can’t just…” He glances down at his lap. “I don’t know how you…”

  I’m crimson, stammering through an apology. “I didn’t mean to do anything. I was touching your aura, I think.” My head whips to Charlotte, whose face is lit with unconcealed happiness. “I didn’t touch him for real, did I?”

  Cass holds up her hands. “All we saw was you petting the air next to his head. Whatever kink you two have going on is between you. I don’t need to know.”

  “There’s no kink!” we both shout. At least he’s just as indignant at the idea of our pairing as I am.

  Cass sniggers. “You know, for an underwear model, you sure are uptight.”

  I fix her with my most obnoxious expression as I sit up on my knees. “First things first. Did anyone else hear that voice?”

  Cass and Gray shake their heads, looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind, but Charlotte grins. I don’t know if that means she heard the voice, or if she’s just happy I did.

  Cass assesses Charlotte’s expression and interprets. “We didn’t hear anything, but if you did, that’s a good thing.” Her smile curves t
he corners of her mouth. “It’s part of the plan to get us out.”

  9

  Reading Auras

  I don’t know how I’m seeing the auras of my cellmates, or what any of it means.

  Nerves spill out of me like a confession no one’s asked for, but I’m just turned around enough to be overly honest. “Our family comes from old magic. My mum could read people’s auras. It’s one of the ways we knew if we could trust our allies. She read them, and she could tell. But I don’t have that ability, her own mum didn’t have it, either. My mum was an anomaly. The magic had been slowly fading for generations, like everyone else’s, until Mum.” I run my fingers through my elbow-length hair. “I mean, I can kind of figure out if people are telling the truth if I try really hard. Other than that, I’m a regular fae. I grow plants. I can conjure water. Normal stuff. I can’t read auras. Everyone in my family had a greater hold on their magic than I do.” I hold up my wrists to add to the scandal. “And I really can’t do any of that with these on! The cuffs are supposed to mute all magic!”

  Cass examines her own hands, as if they’re suddenly sparkling with diamonds. “What color are my hands? What color?!” she shouts.

  “I don’t know! It stopped working the second we broke contact. Your color was yellow with streaks of blue, but I think it was mostly around your head.”

  Cass snatches up my hand. “Let’s do it again. I need to know!”

  “Why? What does this mean? How am I seeing anything?”

  Charlotte locks eyes with me and opens her mouth. We’re harried and turned around, but when the beginning of a whisper sneaks through her lips, we all freeze. A two-year-long vow of silence comes to an end with a raspy, “We’re going to set the people free, starting with us.”

  Her credo fills me with trepidation that forces the tiny hairs on my arms to stand. No one says anything. We stare with rapt attention, hoping for more information.

  Charlotte cups her throat. The simple act of talking after all this time must be painful. “My fae magic is clairvoyance. I’m not from old magic, but my mum and I could always feel the currents more acutely than most, and that’s been passed down to me. I’ve known what’s needed to happen; I was just waiting for you to get here.”

  It’s then that I realize the voice telling me to unlock the cuffs in my mind was, in fact, Charlotte’s. I don’t know how she did it, and I don’t have the wherewithal to ask her.

  Cass has tears in her eyes at the sound of her girlfriend’s voice breaking into the world. I cannot imagine what it must be like to care about someone so deeply, and to be deprived of their voice.

  When I speak, my words have the same croaky quality. “Why me?”

  Charlotte shrugs. “I’m not sure. Maybe your connection to old magic. Whatever it is, I knew it was you the second you stepped into Prigham’s. Now I’ve got all the pieces to start the journey of setting us free.” Charlotte coughs, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. She grins, as if we’re all supposed to be buzzing with the same glee she’s been working towards for who knows how long.

  We’re dumbstruck, even as the loudspeaker booms the morning greeting: “Doors open in five minutes.”

  Charlotte’s smile thickens with a note of plotting. “Careful today. Arly’s unlocked us.” She shivers. “Maybe it’s just because it’s been too long without my magic, but I can feel it rushing back more powerfully than I remember it being. Do you all feel that?”

  Cass can’t look away from her hands. “I feel something. It’s more than I had before. Or it’s different. Or maybe it’s just that I’m unused to it, because it’s been a year. I can’t decide.”

  I have no idea what it could mean, other than that the voice that urged me to undo everyone’s cuffs had been somehow real. What I’d done in my imagination… had it been done by me? I glance down at my wrists, but my cuffs are still in place, secured and unchanged.

  Yet I feel different. Charlotte’s right. I can feel my magic surging with far more potency than was there a mere week ago. Plus, I’ve never been able to read auras.

  My brows tent and my voice goes all squeaky. “I didn’t mean to do anything. The voice told me to unlock our cuffs, so I imagined a key and did what it told me. But it wasn’t real. Our cuffs are still secured.” I shake my head, my nose scrunching. “And I can’t read auras! I didn’t just unlock our magic. Something more than that is happening. You all have been without your magic for a long time, so anything coming back will be overwhelming. But I had mine last week, and I’m telling you, this isn’t normal. My magic feels different!” I cast around, begging them to believe me. “My mum was powerful. The first one in her bloodline who was more powerful than the generation before her after centuries of the ancient magic fading. It’s supposed to fade, but it was stronger in her. Daddy thought it would be stronger in me, too, but that didn’t happen. My abilities are less than Mum’s. I was surrounded by people with potent magic, but I was weaker than them all.” I hold up my hands. “But this doesn’t feel less! Something’s different!”

  It’s radiating in my bones now, the freshness of this new power. It’s my mum, and perhaps even more than her magic.

  Charlotte’s rasp holds such certainty that I don’t have the gall to question her. “Isn’t it odd that your mum is the only person who can actually read auras, after generations of the magic fading? Isn’t it funny that the people in your household have held onto ancient magic, and perhaps it’s actually grown stronger, rather than fading?” She looks at me so serenely that my shoulders relax without me telling them to do so. “It was you.”

  My grimace of disbelief goes unchecked. “What?”

  Charlotte nods. “I knew it from the first day you stepped in here. You’re their key. Their unlocker. Their enhancer.” Her gaze bores into me with purpose. “And now you’re ours.”

  “Charlotte, what are you saying?” Cass asks for the benefit of everyone in the room.

  “I’m saying Arly unlocked the bit of our cuffs that keeps our magic muted, and she also enhanced it—tweaking what we had and giving us a little extra.”

  “No, I didn’t!” My protest falls on deaf ears.

  Charlotte stands, her smaller form towering over us even as she whispers. “Keep it secret, and you’ll be safe. We can’t make our magic known yet.”

  Gray stands. “What magic? Are you saying I can shift again?”

  Emotion stirs in my chest for him. I can’t imagine what it’s like to live with that trapped feeling for this long. To have your animal crying out in your chest and be able to do nothing about it sounds dreadful.

  Charlotte holds her hand out to him. “Not yet. We’ll try it tonight. What’s your animal’s name?”

  Gray ducks his head, as if he’s nervous about telling us something this private.

  Gosh, that’s cute.

  He’s so broad and muscular. To catch a glimpse of shyness on him is downright endearing.

  “My wolf goes by Rafe. He’s grey with white around his ears.”

  “Rafe?” I repeat. “I like that.”

  Gray shudders and doubles over, his hands on his knees. “Don’t say his name like that.”

  My nose scrunches. “Like what?” I cast around to the girls for confirmation. “I said it normal.”

  Gray shakes his head and rights himself, rubbing his chest. “He wants to hear it too badly—you saying his name.”

  “Let me try,” Cass interjects. “Rafe, how’s it hanging, boy?”

  Gray’s face twists. “Not the same, but it’s something. He’s wagging his tail. He wants to play. Like, he’s expecting you’ll take him for a run.”

  I’m fascinated with their connection. “What about Charlotte?” I ask.

  Charlotte’s still new to talking, so she stands in front of Gray and holds up her hand, her eyes focused on his chest, like she can see Rafe through Gray’s white tank top.

  “He’s sitting now. He’ll do whatever you say. In fact, you might not even have to say it out loud. He wan
ts to be good for you.” Gray casts around for the bunk. The unshakable man is finally shaken. “I need to sit down. I need water. Something. This is a lot.” He rubs his chest harder, slowly and with all the muscles in his arm tensed, like he’s trying to add pressure to calm himself. “No, Rafe. Calm down.”

  “He wants to run around?” I guess, compassion filling me for this poor guy’s plight.

  Charlotte’s meditation gave me a power I didn’t know I could have, but it’s putting Gray in total distress. I did this to him.

  “This is our safe space,” I remind him. Then I echo his own words. “It’s ours, not theirs.”

  Gray hides his face from me, like he’s battling shame. “He wants you. To be near you. He’s anxious when you’re across the room like that.” He grimaces in my direction. “Ignore him. Rafe will learn. It’s just taking a minute. Something about that meditation got him all riled up. He’s been sleeping for like, a year. It took a while to get him to stay calm in here, but he’s been hibernating. Now he’s up and wants to play.” His thick eyebrows bunch. “He thinks you and I are his masters, instead of just me. Ignore him. He’s just confused.”

  “It unlocked him,” Charlotte whispers. “Tonight when the doors shut, we can let him out in the cell.” She reaches down and holds onto Gray’s hand. “Be patient, Rafe.”

  Gray nods. “That helped. He’s sitting. Whining, sure, but he’s sitting. He wants to be good for you.”

  I harrumph. “This is silly. I’ll just come closer.”

  “No!” Gray shouts, not unkindly. “Sorry, but no. I control my wolf, not the other way around. He can’t whine his way through life to get what he wants. I won’t be a charity case. A woman should be near me because she wants to, not because she feels bad for me. It’s abusive and manipulative any other way.”