Mortal Scream (Harbingers of Death Book 1)

by LeAnn Mason

  “Why isn’t Raven in here?” I demanded of the guards. She was the real threat. She’d proved it yet again with that pitch.

  The guards didn’t respond, but the doc returned so fast that I suspected he might also have superpowers. “Raven?”

  “Yeah. The one who threw the rock that did that,” I tried vainly to swing an arm at the waking giant, “and tried to suffocate me in my sleep last night. Shouldn’t she be strapped to a bed? Going around trying to murder people right and left is pretty psychotic if you ask me.” I didn’t mention the reason I had been tossed in this place.

  The doc picked up his pad, forgetting entirely about poor Bertha, who tossed and turned with piteous whimpers. She’d be conscious soon. “Tell me more about last night and your contention with your roommate. Does this have to do with your dream?”

  Was he saying I provoked my ‘roommate’? It’s not like I could help having the fucked-up nightmare. I didn’t want this as much as my cellie didn’t want me.

  This stupid screaming issue isn’t a picnic for me either, sister.

  I jiggled my cuffs again, testing their restraint—again—and finding them incredibly effective as one might expect in a prison.

  Information can be as useful as action. Use whatever opportunity you’re given to learn about your situation.

  I looked at the doc with renewed interest. He knew everyone’s secrets in here, I’d bet. Maybe he could tell me more about who to befriend in order to survive—because obviously it wasn’t my cellie or Bertha.

  “Miss Grey? Tell me about your interaction with Raven last night.”

  ◆◆◆

  That girl looked like trouble from day one. Cole fumed as he stormed down the hallway, having left his girls in the yard with Waterford. He was a fairly new CO, but Cole was even newer—at least at this prison. Seke often assigned Cole to the guard position. It made sense to keep together, and when their majority was female, that left him keeping watch over the Trio of Terror.

  He hadn’t liked the new girl lingering around Ember, Raven, and Jess. She raised his hackles. Did she suspect them?

  Turns out she wasn’t suspicious; she was psychotic.

  All the more reason to keep her locked up and away from his team. When he got overprotective, Ember reminded him that they had their own abilities for defense. Dangerous situations arose. Their job was literally to be plunked into the middle of a prepackaged clusterfuck: condensed areas, no means of escape, and a picking of only the scariest beings.

  After them, of course.

  Though, this new girl was turning out to be a piece of work. Her badass look had lured him into a false sense of security. He’d been confident that she was going to be the new inmate punching bag. Usually, badass was more about looking scary. Ember, Jess, and Raven were proof that you didn’t need to look like a badass to be capable of whatever needed to be done.

  And what needed to be done wasn’t policing a young woman’s mental breakdowns.

  A stray growl crawled up his throat. He’d told Seke not to make him head. The team leader had insisted, claiming that giving Cole more power enabled him access to all areas and members of the prison. Coverage was necessary when they had no idea who their target would be. Anyone could drop dead in these places at any time. As the silver-haired chick had proven, violence was common between prisoners.

  Cole had seriously considered ignoring the radio summons before he’d ultimately broken down to perform the duties inherent in his “position.” Part of which meant providing backup for situations within the prison—even when death wasn’t involved. Even when it wasn’t his true purpose for being within these stifling halls.

  He wasn’t happy about leaving his teammates alone.

  Slamming open the infirmary door, Cole’s demand came out with a feral canine bark. “What’s going on in here?”

  Struggling to leash his darker side, he prowled into the room… and nearly shifted on the spot as he heard Raven’s name uttered from the silver-haired troublemaker. Cole knew there was something more going on last night when he’d caught the pair awake. Had she done something to Raven before today’s yard fiasco?

  Cole’s vision turned red as he zeroed in on the interloper talking to the doctor.

  “Cole, she—,” one of the CO’s said as he passed them though it slowed him down as much as a pebble thrown in the way of a truck.

  “Mr. Cole. Now, wait just a moment, if you please—”

  “What about Raven?” Cole asked the girl who’d just gotten his lookout caught in a fight. The fact that Raven was fine, and had handled it, didn’t cool Cole’s temper. The new chick’s chin thrust defiantly at him. She had some spunk to go with her blooming badass attitude after all.

  His return smile at her stubborn gesture was steeped in the essence of Hell, and he didn’t restrain his eyes from gleaming. Mollified, his dominant side thumped its chest when she cast her gaze down, letting him win the unspoken challenge.

  “Mr. Cole.”

  “What about Raven?” Cole snapped at the poor doctor who gestured away from the bed. Cole didn’t move. “What is going on here?” he asked, this time turning to another guard who’d followed him to his position hovering at the end of the chick’s bed where her feet were strapped down.

  “She threatened CO Michaels”

  The doctor moved around the bed to stand between the men with weapons and his patient, lifting his palms and struggling to be heard as the voice of reason. “Now, let’s not—”

  “Threatened him?” Cole spoke over the doctor, cocking his head at the chick, trying to see how a little thing who screamed at the sight of violence, and was strapped down, might be something CO Michaels would worry about. According to the files, he had been at this prison almost as long as the women’s wing had existed. Maybe Michaels thought himself a pioneer when laws altered and mandated prisoners be separated by gender.

  “Please.” The doctor clasped his hands together. “Miss Grey is experiencing some perfectly reasonable reactions in response to the change in her environment and a traumatic—”

  “She said Michaels was going to die,” Blondie interjected, pissed. He was old school and a touch on the severe side in how he treated the inmates. Rumor had it he was a fan of solitary for anyone who stepped out of line in the slightest.

  “Miss Grey had a vivid dream, and it seems that her ability to separate reality from—”

  “A dream?” Cole was going to have to agree with the doctor on this one. Rolling his eyes, he started to leave, to get back to his girls. The chick was all talk—no way she could jump Michaels, let alone kill the burly man who Cole saw doing pull-ups each morning. He might be older, but he kept himself fit.

  “Yes, it was just a dream in which she saw CO Michaels pass on. Now, I think this warrants some—”

  Cole froze as an epiphany exploded in his head, sending an internal howl of shock and disbelief to mute the rest of the doctor’s inane babbling.

  The screaming.

  The threat.

  The dream.

  The weirdness about her…

  Cole stared at the chick in utter disbelief. Could she be? He’d thought they were extinct. That’s why their team was plagued with the mystery of not knowing their targets beyond general vicinity.

  Cole kept his cool externally while his canine side wound up in a tight corkscrew, straining at the leash he kept it tied on until necessary to be released.

  Could it be?

  “What are you?” Cole seethed, wanting to step back and, at the same time, let his dog surge forward to investigate her better. He was going to have to report this.

  This chick really was trouble if she was the harbinger of death he suspected.

  12

  “Grey! You have a visitor.”

  The startling yell came down the corridor, long preceding the physical appearance of the speaker. CO Cole, of course.

  It seemed I just couldn’t get away from this guy, or Raven for that matter. Though somet
hing in her blatant hate for me had simmered down since I’d returned from the infirmary the evening before.

  After Cole deigned to leave me in the care of the doctor, fire spitting from eyes that I would have sworn were red and not the amber color piercing me now, I’d been grilled some more. Apparently, it had been enough to deem me of sound mind, just having typical anxiety associated with a complete loss of freedom. They’d had a term for it and everything, but I wasn’t listening. They could diagnose me however they wanted. They’d never believe that I had some sort of death radar like I now contemplated. Maybe they misdiagnosed—I sure sounded psycho.

  “Did you hear me, cupcake?” he raised a dubious eyebrow as he sauntered up to my cell.

  Who would visit me? I had no one on my team except… “Young guy? Looks a little wet behind the ears?” I speculated. What’s he doing here? I felt almost positive I’d never see my lawyer again. Shit. Was this about my threat on the guard? I couldn’t be put in anywhere worse than maximum security, could I? Maybe I should see if he could file a belated insanity plea.

  “Different legal counsel.”

  “Really? Huh,” I pondered as the metal ring of keys clanked loudly against my prison bars, Cole turning the inserted key and yanking open the door. Who else would it be?

  I looked toward the bed and my again lethargic cellmate who was absently twirling some object that would periodically catch the light. She seemed to be studiously ignoring me but with a little less animosity. Maybe it was purely my whacked-out imagination. Either way, she didn’t seem to want to chime in on the situation. I was pretty sure she flicked her eyes toward Cole briefly, a look that seemed to communicate plenty even if I didn’t know what.

  “Let’s go, Grey,” Cole finally repeated, circling his hand in a “move out” motion filled with impatience now that his moment with the black-haired she-devil was over.

  “Hold your horses, Commando,” I snipped.

  Already, I was getting annoyed with asshole COs and catty criminal bitches. My attitude would only devolve. How long would it take for me to snap? To become the head case they’d thought I was? Was I already there? How long before I needed to become equally hateful just to make it through the days?

  I silently ruminated on those questions, following beside Cole as we navigated toward wherever I would speak to this man who apparently wasn’t the court-appointed, lackluster counselor I knew and loathed. I found that piqued my curiosity. Who would visit me under the guise of being my legal counsel? I didn’t have anyone who cared. Or money to hire anyone to pretend to care.

  I didn’t have anyone.

  Pausing only a moment, CO Cole opened a metal door adorned with a small plastic cutout window through which I could see only a couple of plastic chairs.

  “In you go, cupcake.” Cole tipped his head toward the now open doorway, a strange challenge lighting his dark features.

  Squaring my shoulders, I heard my father’s words once again fill my head.

  Don’t let anyone see that they get to you. They only win if you let them.

  “I’m not your cupcake,” I admonished, striding past the burly man and into the stark room, only to halt a few feet in when I didn’t notice anyone else in the room. The heavy thud of the door slamming behind me made me jump, which pissed me off.

  “Hello there, Miss Grey.”

  Again, I startled, which pissed me off more, but I hadn’t been prepared for the smooth, slightly accented male voice. I hadn’t noticed anyone when I walked in, but now, a too-gorgeous-for-his-own-good olive-skinned god of a man stood on the near-side of the single table adorning the room. Dressed to the nines in a gray suit that accented his dark hair and eyes, he seemed way too suave to be a lawyer. The ones I’d seen always appeared stiff and self-important. Somehow, I didn’t get that vibe from this guy. But there was definitely something about him…

  “Miss Grey?”

  “Uh, yeah, hi,” I finally stammered, only partially regaining my composure.

  There was a darkly dangerous aura about the man, and Lord help me if I didn’t want to bask in it if it meant being able to ogle him longer. A girl had to take what she could get when she was facing years without a man around to scratch the itch. I took in his hair, styled sharply in a loosely gelled wave, and his obviously groomed and shaped beard-line, complete with thin mustache and little triangular ass-tickler surrounding plump lips. It was a seriously good look…

  Shaking my head slightly, I attempted to pull myself together. He should have my full attention to discern his true purpose, not to memorize his looks.

  “You’re not my lawyer,” I barked, finally convincing my brain to send something coherent to my mouth.

  Nevertheless, my eyes continued to rake in the striking man. Chiseled. That word leapt to the fore of my mind again and again. The suit molded to his lithe body, making the contours of muscle discernable beneath. With a heavy brow, straight nose, and luscious full lips set in deep olive skin, he was a type I never knew I’d had.

  “That’s true, Miss Grey. I’m taking over your case and would love to have a few words. Sit, please.” He motioned to the seat opposite him, nearer the far wall.

  Slowly, not taking my eyes from the imposter, I moved toward the free chair. “What can I do for you, Mister …?” I hinted, sitting heavily.

  “Seker, but you can call me Seke.”

  “Like the Egyptian God? Interesting. Okay. I’m listening, Mister Seker.”

  Respect shone in his dark eyes, and he lifted his lips in a barely-there smile like I’d just confirmed something for him. “You know of ancient Egyptian gods?”

  “A few. My parents were fairly morbid and taught me some things related to death mythology.” I shrugged. I didn’t often talk about my parents, let alone the weirdness I’d grown up with, though some had been flung at the doc last night. Why, then, did I spew it to this random stranger?

  He nodded absently. “And you scream uncontrollably and at random, I’m told. Is this true?”

  I cocked my head and took him in. Shit, so it was about that? “Are you going for an insanity plea? I’m not crazy, and I’m not guilty, but it doesn’t much matter now. All that knowledge compels is movement into a psych prison. That’s not any better than my current locale. Worse, really. Those bitches be violent and crazy.”

  That drew a soft, honeyed chuckle from the lawyer man—another thing that didn’t mesh about him. My previous lawyer certainly hadn’t had any sense of humor.

  “Might I ask if your hair is naturally that pretty color, or has it been dyed?” He pointed to illustrate. You know, just in case I wasn’t sure what he meant.

  I let it slide, moving my attention to my long, silver tresses. I scissored the violet ends with my fingers. “Everything but this is all me. I think it makes me too pale, so I like to add a bit of color. Makes me pop a little more.”

  Seke nodded at my proclamation, a soft smile gracing his full lips. Again, I’d inadvertently confirmed something for him.

  “Okay. None of your questions had jack to do with my case. What exactly are you here for?”

  I watched as, straightening, he morphed back into the man who oozed darkness. He almost seemed to pull shadows into himself or leak them—I couldn’t quite tell.

  “I’m hoping that I can gather some new evidence in your case that will lead to your exoneration.”

  I blinked dumbly at him. He stared calmly back, completely serious. “And how’s that going for ya?” I deadpanned.

  “Pretty well, actually. I’m confident I can get you out of here in the near future.” I’d swear there was some hidden meaning—an undercurrent—to his words that dumbfounded me.

  “Ah. Well, that’s good to know. Maybe I don’t need to perfect my digital techniques just yet then, huh?” Wiggling said digits, I couldn’t help the crude smartass comment. I was too used to relying on myself to have faith in anyone’s words. I didn’t have to worry if my words went over his head. The smirk told me they didn’t.

/>   “I assure you, Miss Grey, it is always in one’s best interest to be proficient at self-pleasure.”

  That accent did funny things to me even before the dirty talk, but those words sent a knowing shiver through my body while our stares held. I knew, at that moment, nothing I could provide myself would come close to what this man could provide for me.

  “Thank you for meeting with me. I believe I can move forward now,” Seke drawled, pushing from his chair with a screech of metal across linoleum.

  The abrasive sound accosted my ears nearly as much as my deranged screams but was effective in pulling me from the gutter. The emergence of CO Cole was like an additional bucket of ice water dumped onto my head and effectively doused any burgeoning desire Mr. Seker had ignited.

  “Ah, Cole, thank you for allowing me time with Miss Grey. I think I have the information I need. You may return her to her accommodations. I will await my escort.”

  My head swiveled between the two men at the familiar tone and cryptic words. What information? I don’t give out information freely. But even with his welcoming openness that had lured my humor out, I hadn’t said a peep to him about the murder I was accused of.

  Cole dipped his head and reached for me without a word. His hand found my arm, leading me back out into the corridor as the door closed quietly with a snick.

  “You let it slam before just to unnerve me, didn’t you?”

  His cocky smirk told me he had. Douchebag.

  “Where to now?”

  “Somewhere where you won’t bother me.”

  Yep. Total douche.

  ◆◆◆

  From the moment the silver-haired woman had entered the room, Seke had been positive she was a banshee. The banshee. He hadn’t dared to hope one had survived being hunted, let alone completely evaded their world for more than twenty years. But one had—and dropped right into his lap, sentenced to the very prison his team had been deployed to for their latest assignment. She’d even pinpointed their target, something the unit hadn’t had the luxury of since their union.