I don’t know all the rules of this vision thing, but I do know Daddy needs that contract.
Gray urges me to stay away from them, but I can’t. Daddy needs this piece of paper, so I’m going to help him get it, no matter how badly my fingers are trembling.
I dip my hand into the wastebasket after the king stands, nearly cheering when I manage to slip the paper out without notice. I fold it twice and wait until Daddy opens the door, then I slip out into the hallway where Sloan is pacing.
So that’s where I get my nervous pacing from.
It’s an effort to be near my best friend and not collapse in his arms, but I manage to tuck the paper in the breast pocket of Sloan’s suit without detection.
“Make the call,” Daddy says to Sloan, whose entire body tightens.
“Give me half a minute, Conan. He’ll never look Arly’s way again.”
Daddy cuffs Sloan’s shoulder. “Not now. She’s safe where she’s at. We’ll find another way to expose him to the public. Your plan to put him behind bars will happen. Just perhaps not today.”
I leave the others and wander with Sloan and Daddy down the hallway. I want to hear more. I drink in every word that redeems my father as someone who actually does care about what happens to me.
“Regis can’t get near her. But just in case he tries, I’m going to head down to Prigham’s tomorrow and make sure she knows not to take any visits from the king. They have their strict instructions she’s off limits to him, but you never know if there are any weak links he can twist to his advantage.” Sloan grips his abdomen. “It makes me sick, the way Regis looks at her. I’m telling you, I don’t have the stomach for it.”
Daddy pats his pocket, searching for his cigar. “You always keep her safe. I trust you, Sloan. Now I’ve got to figure out this mess with the shipment. If he destroys it, that’s a hefty investment gone. Antoni will be in a right state when he finds out.”
Sloan stops walking, eyeing my father with sudden authority. “Maybe it’s time you got out of this. It’s not too late. Regis is right that this could destroy a lot of lives. You told me you and Antoni had that garbage crafted to sink Regis; you never intended to actually distribute it.” The pause is so long, I can count eight whole heartbeats throbbing in my cheeks. “Right?”
A veil falls over Daddy’s eyes. “Not every life needs to be saved. And a lot more will be lost if we don’t numb the masses. This new drug will help with that. The public can’t handle the magic rekindling. I’ve felt it. I know you have, too. Something happened when Arlanna went into Prigham’s. You were supposed to keep her magic from spinning out of control, but it’s happening.” He slaps his hands together for emphasis. “She needs to be controlled.”
My upper lip curls in protest.
Sloan rubs his forehead. “My reach is limited outside the prison, Conan. You know that. I’m doing all I can. I can check with the nurse tomorrow to make sure Arly’s still being given the stuff to suppress her magic.”
Suppress my magic? Why would Sloan want that? How long has he been doing this?
I don’t know what they mean, or maybe I do. Is this connected with the unlocking and the enhancing I can do, which Charlotte is so fond of mentioning? Was she the trigger that set my magic on its head?
And then in turn, my unleashed magic pushed Cass to become a darkling.
And my kiss mutated Rafe into a monster. A sweet one, granted, but a monster all the same.
It’s me. I’m the catalyst who’s setting everything on a dangerous path. Daddy’s right; the world won’t be able to handle the magic rekindling. If all shifters had their animals turned to monsters, that would be a menace from which the world would never recover. If people like Cass’ mum were enhanced with magic to make her blend into the shadows, instead of someone trustworthy like Cass, we would all be in a world of trouble.
Father starts walking down the hall, but Sloan pauses, sniffing the air. His head turns this way and that, and for all my surety that they can’t see me, in this moment, I’m positive Sloan can sense my presence.
He moves slowly toward me, his footsteps finding me even if his eyes can’t.
I should back up. I should run to the room with the others.
Instead, I stand there, missing my family so badly, I’m not sure I have the strength to move my feet.
Sloan puts his hand on the wall an inch from where I stand and exhales, his hand moving to his heart.
Then he leaves, and part of me goes with him.
28
The Whispers of Fools
I’m still reeling from the electric shock through my system when we land back in our cell, as if no time has passed at all. The lights are off, but there’s a sliver of illumination coming in from under the doorway.
“Is it morning already?” I ask my cellmates.
It’s not until Cass answers my internal question that I finally get a solid grip on my surroundings. “How long were we there? My internal clock is all off.” Cass makes an angry noise after bumping into the bedframe. “Come here, Charlotte. Let’s get you onto the bed. Help me, Gray. It’s pitch black, I don’t want her hitting anything on the bedframe.”
“Arly?” Gray reaches for me. His night vision is far better than ours.
But I can’t extend my arm to hold onto him. I’m shaking where I stand, on the verge of something too crushing for me to stand up against.
Once Cass gets Charlotte situated, she turns and holds her hands up, facing me. I can’t see her details, but I can make out her shape. “It’s going to be okay, Arly. Can we get you to sit down?”
I’m useless for anything except following simple instructions, and luckily, Cass is good at telling me what to do when I’m turned around. She’s good at lots of things, and right now, I don’t feel competent for much. Her words coax my foot forward, but I don’t make it two steps before my stomach’s heaving at the notion that King Regis wants me in any sense of the word.
I double over, holding my stomach.
Gray grabs me before I collapse, but only just. “Easy, Arly-girl. Deep breaths. No one’s going to get at you in here.”
I can’t find the calming inhales I desperately need. I can’t find much of anything in the darkness.
Gray steadies me as much as he’s able, holding me to his chest while my knees wobble and my stomach rebels. “He’s my father’s age!”
Gray’s hands through my tangles are no doubt meant to be comforting, but I can feel his nerves with every pass. “Whatever he wants, it doesn’t matter.” He tucks his finger under my chin, tilting my face upward so I can’t hide my worry from him. “I won’t let him near you, honey. He won’t lay a finger on you.” He moves my hand to his naked chest so I can trace his solid musculature. “Feel that? It’s always going to be standing between you and the king.”
I’m terrified, but finally my brain latches onto his truth. The king can’t get at me in here. He can’t get near me at all. I’m in my cell, tucked in Gray’s arms, buried behind walls and walls of concrete. “I thought Daddy sent me here because he was a coward who didn’t want to do his own time! I didn’t realize he…”
“I know,” Gray coos. Everything about him is gentle, even the way he sweetly sways me from side to side. “Let it wash over you. I’m right here.”
And the funny thing is that I do let myself lean on him—this man who isn’t Sloan. I quake as I find and lose my footing over and over, stammering through half-sentences that hold whole worlds of devastation in my heart.
Charlotte has been sweetly soothing Cass, who couldn’t be more rattled if she tried.
Cass is usually so chill about everything. Hearing her nervous laughter sets my teeth on edge. “That’s right. We’re all safe. See this face? It’s never been calmer. I couldn’t be less freaked out if I tried.” Her voice turns higher pitched. “I mean, so what if Gray turned into a mutant version of Rafe who could’ve slaughtered us with a single swipe? And being in a cell one minute and in a palace the next isn’t
something I’ll ever complain about. Do you think you could transport us to an ice cream shop next? Sure, I’m intrigued by the sicko on the throne, but sometimes a girl needs a break over a double chocolate cherry ice cream cone.”
Though it’s clear Cass is on the verge of a breakdown, Charlotte remains calm. “I like mint chocolate chip.”
Cass’ voice turns earnest. “Then that’s what we’ll do when we get out of here. I’ll take you to the ice cream shop, and you’ll get all the mint chocolate chip you can eat. Just you and me.” Then, as if I said something annoying, she adds, “And probably Gray and Arly, but honestly, we can leave them in the backseat of the car. They won’t care, so long as they have a quiet place to snog.”
I snort a laugh into Gray’s bare chest—sexy, indeed. Then I gaze up into Gray’s face, wishing for so many things to make sense that just plain don’t. “What happened to Rafe?” I lean up on my toes and kiss his lips. I love that he lets me, like we do that sort of thing all the time. “Are you okay?”
His hesitance is not exactly reassuring. “I’ve got him locked away for now, so you don’t need to worry.”
Another kiss, because I can’t not. He gives me two more, his arms curling around my waist like I’ve seen people do on television, when they’d make out in front of their lockers in high school.
“But why was he huge like that?”
His lips find mine again, grounding me when my brain and body feel listless and floating in an abyss I can’t climb my way out of. I crave the softness of his lips, the warm cinnamon smell of him, and the way he gravitates to me when he’s drifting, as well.
Gray pauses our kiss after indulging in one more, his forehead pressed to mine while we catch our breath. “Rafe wasn’t going to hurt you. I don’t think he’s capable. He was spooked, is all.” I can hear the hard thrust of his swallow. “I don’t know how he changed. That’s never happened to anyone before.”
It’s my turn to calm his racing heart. My palm spreads across his chest and then drifts down to his navel. “Am I still your girl, Rafe?”
His stomach jumps in response, and Gray groans as if I’ve said something unbearably sexy. “Only every day.”
When the bulb overhead flickers on, I blink a few times before glancing over at Cass and Charlotte, who pull apart slowly from what must’ve been the world’s quietest kiss.
“Charlotte, what are you thinking, kissing a shadowmelder? You know Cass is nothing but trouble.” Gray sniggers when Cass shoots us her middle finger for having caught sight of their cuteness.
Charlotte takes her time sitting up. “Then I think I love trouble. Maybe I have for a while now.”
Gray holds me while Cass and Charlotte share a sweet smile. His hands slide up and down my arms to warm them. “Everyone alright?”
All three of us scoff, but there’s no time for any other response before the cell door opens. Gray quickly pulls on his jumpsuit, and Cass and I assemble ours as we line up, pushing our questions to the side. None of us has any answers anyways, but still, the questions bubble under the surface of our complacent demeanors as we move out of our cell and follow the guard down the hall.
Calisthenics, breakfast and sewing detail don’t produce any answers, even though we’re all hopeful Charlotte will have some breakthrough for us any minute now.
“It’s coming,” she says, her shoulders slumped. Her eyes aren’t filled with their usual joy. In fact, as the hours tick by, she grows more and more preoccupied with whatever is swimming around in her mind. “The next phase is coming soon.”
“You’ll have to be more specific,” I complain, switching out my thread. “I’m juggling too many ulcers at the moment.”
Charlotte sews slowly, so I scoot my desk closer to her side, in case she needs to lean on me or something. She barely looks upright as she shakes her head. Her eyes are squinted, like she has a headache. “I don’t understand what we’re supposed to do. We’re supposed to free everyone, but how? We were supposed to hear that conversation between the king and your father, but why? What are we supposed to do with it?”
Though the whirring of too many machines dulls the chances anyone will overhear, we’re usually not so forthright with our secret plans when we’re in public.
Cassia’s hand finds Charlotte’s back. “It’ll be okay. Just like you said, best not rush the visions. They’ll do what they do when they feel like doing it. We can’t push them to be what they’re not. Right now, they’re pieces of the picture, not the whole thing.”
Charlotte pauses to consider this, and then sags against Cass. “You’re right. It’s just that the lusty thing the king has for Arly really bothered me. I want that solved and over with, but I guess the vision isn’t directing us toward a solution for that.”
Gray doesn’t look up from his machine. “I thought we weren’t discussing that. Certain people are trying to keep their temper. Conversation about perverts in power isn’t helping matters.”
Poor Rafe. I fight the urge to rub Gray’s belly, even though it’s crying out to be scratched over his jumpsuit. Now’s not the time. I’m not sure any time is the time, really, now that Rafe is so huge and formidable.
Malrick’s hiss of “shifter whore,” hits my ears, but I’ve got too much swirling in my head to care.
Gray, apparently, has all the focus in the world for this fight. Instead of his usually cool demeanor that shuns conflict and values a peaceful, out-of-the-way existence, his chair scrapes the floor with menace as he stands and beelines for Malrick.
My boyfriend is gentle as a lamb, until you poke him at the exact wrong angle after the exact wrong night. “You want to say something? Say it like a man. Don’t whisper that my girlfriend’s a whore under your breath.” He doesn’t wait for Malrick to stand, but shocks a screech out of a few people nearby when he hoists Malrick out of his seat and slams him onto the floor hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.
Gray is huge. He’s far bulkier, taller and more muscular than anyone else at Prigham’s, including the guards. That’s the nature of shifters. By comparison, Malrick looks tiny, and a little like he might pee himself.
I’m on my feet and running to intervene, but Officer McGregor is quicker. The blow of the whistle brings in two guards from the hallway. Before I can do anything helpful, Gray’s already being wrestled off of Malrick.
Cass, Charlotte and I know that this is just about the worst day anyone could choose to poke at any one of us. Not to mention that there’s no one but Gray capable of holding his wolf back. Judging by the crazed look in Gray’s usually gentle eyes, his normal dose of self-control isn’t going to cut it today.
If they know he can shift, then they’ll know his magic-muting cuffs aren’t working.
I bolt to his side. “Gray! Calm yourself down. Not like this. It’s okay. I’m okay.” I hold up my hands, begging him to breathe through all the changes we’ve survived thus far. “Look at me,” I insist as the guards jerk him around and test his temper. “Don’t I look fine?”
“You’re not a whore!” Gray roars, his rage rattling my ribs.
It’s then I see distress polluting his anger. He’s not just mad that Malrick said something off-color; he’s distraught that this will be how people see me, now that I’m connected to him.
This was what he warned me about, and though the aggressive slurs have been happening for a while now, today, everything is compounded.
I wish Gray understood how little I care about the whispers of fools. I care about the kindness of friends. I treasure the tenderness of the man who holds me at night when the monsters threaten to take me away from all that I’ve fought so hard to become.
I should listen to the guards who tell me to back up, but I take a chance and touch Gray’s chest. “Shh. I know that. I don’t care what anyone says. I’m the luckiest girl in here, because I have you.” I inhale a long drag. “Deep breaths.”
When the nearest officer shoves me roughly away from Gray, dread races through me wh
en there’s an animalistic howl to Gray’s protest. “Don’t touch her!”
He looks deranged, and also like the officer has just stepped on his very last nerve.
With the way she’s been dragging this morning, Charlotte’s been in no position to help anybody, but still she stumbles toward us, with Cass at her heels. Her hand on my hip is meant to steady me from the guard’s shove, but Charlotte also uses the contact to speak into my mind. Her mouth doesn’t move, but an echo whispers through my head, spooking me so much that I jump. “Call to Rafe. Tell him to behave. Command him.”
I’m nervous to address Rafe at all, given what a wildcard he is, but I do it anyway because we’re a breath away from compromising everything. That, and I’m too turned around by Charlotte’s ability to speak silently into my brain that I don’t have the wherewithal to question her.
I hold my hand up and send out a command only to my pup, from my mind to his. “Rafe, sit down!”
I don’t expect it to have any visible effect, but at once, Gray’s knees buckle, surprising me. By the looks of his wide eyes and popped-open mouth, it catches him off-guard, too.
The officers shove Gray to the floor, pushing him facedown as they yank his arms behind his back and cuff him.
The sight is too much for me. Don’t they realize he’s a good man? This sort of treatment should be reserved for Daddy’s men, not a sweet soul like Gray. “You’re being too rough with him!” I scream, lunging forward.
Cass catches me around the waist. “You’re making things worse,” she hisses in my ear. “They think shifters are extra dangerous, so they’re reacting because it’s all too intense. Take down the crazy, and they’ll stop…”
But I can’t. “Gray, I’m here! I’ll go with you.”
“Solitary for you, Shifter. Tell your cellmates you’ll be back in twenty-four hours with a better attitude. There’s zero tolerance for fighting in here. You know that.”
Charlotte pinches my arm. “Tell Rafe to lie down!”
Sins of the Father: A Paranormal Prison Romance (Sinfully Sacrified Book 1) Page 21
