by Jasmine Walt
We halted immediately, doing as he said. I wasn’t worried about the vulnerable position – my reflexes were faster, and I could slice his arm off with a chakram faster than he could draw his sword. Of course I had my magic too, but I didn’t want to give that away since I was posing as a full-blooded shifter.
Seeing that we’d obeyed without hesitation, the guard relaxed fractionally, though his fingers didn’t stray from his sword hilt. “What business do you have out here in Coazi territory?”
“We came to join the Resistance,” I called back.
The guard cocked a brow. “Did you now? All by yourselves?” He looked skeptical. “New recruits must be vouched for by current members of the Resistance, and they never come to this particular place.”
“I was given directions to this camp by my uncle, Rylan Baine,” I told him. “As you can understand, he’s a little too busy to bring us here himself.”
The two guards exchanged a look – Rylan was an officer in the Resistance, and well known. “Rylan Baine’s niece, eh? What’s your name?”
“Mika Baine,” I lied smoothly, using the name of my cousin Melantha’s daughter, who I’d rescued from the Shifter Royale just days ago. It was better to use an actual family member’s name than to make someone up – Rylan would have to ascertain Mika’s whereabouts, which would be difficult since Solantha was in an uproar, and would buy us extra time. “These here are my friends, Felix Lamos and Anaris Maren.” I gestured toward Annia and Fenris, who were standing to my right, without lowering my hands.
“Well it’s nice to see some new faces,” the other guard, a handsome blond with green eyes, spoke up for the first time. “Especially women, as not too many of those come our way.” He sent Annia a wink, and she gave him a flirtatious smile. “I’m Private Willis, and this here is Sergeant Brun.”
“Be that as it may,” Brun growled, shooting his fellow soldier a look that said he didn’t appreciate being introduced, “we can’t just take your word at face value. We’ll have to bring you three to the captain so he can decide what to do with you.”
I shrugged as well as I could with my hands in the air. “Fine by me. When do we get to meet him?”
Brun sent Willis to fetch two more soldiers, then left them to guard the entrance to the town along with the archers while he took us to the Captain. Our hands were tightly bound in front of us with thick rope, and we were herded up a wide street flanked with two-story brick-and-wood buildings, every third of which was a crumbling ruin. The better-preserved houses had been patched up by the Resistance, newer pieces of cedar wood standing out against the older siding, and bits of plaster and glue were smeared around the edges of windows that had been replaced. The windows were small and covered with a film of dust, and none of the buildings had signs out front, so there was no way of telling which, if any of them, housed the prisoners we sought.
The soldiers led us into a two-story cabin that looked like it had seen better days, the siding worn rough by sandstorms and who knew what else, and the porch railing leaning sideways. The floorboards creaked under our feet as we were led onto the porch, and we stood under an awning that looked ready to collapse on top of our heads as Brun knocked on the door.
“Captain Milios?” he called. “It’s Sergeant Brun.”
“Come in,” a deep, brusque voice answered.
Brun turned the wooden doorknob, and the door creaked loudly as he pushed it open. We followed after him into a small, rectangular room that had probably served as the house’s kitchen and living area, judging by the wood-burning stove in the left corner. The empty, rickety-looking shelves on the walls would have once housed pots and pans as well as cooking supplies.
On the opposite side of the room was a large, rough-hewn desk covered with piles of paper and a typewriter that looked like it was on its last legs. Behind the desk sat a sturdy-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and a weather-beaten face, who I could only assume was Captain Milios. His thin lips and hard, dark eyes told me he was not the cheerful sort, and I doubted he would show us any mercy if he found out who we really were.
“Sergeant.” Milios narrowed his eyes. Like his soldiers, he was dressed in khakis, but he wore three blood-drop medals on his breast as opposed to the single one Sergeant Brun displayed. His medals were also gold rather than red, which I imagined went with his higher rank. He scowled at us before returning his attention to Brun. “Who are these people?”
“They claim to be new recruits, sent by Captain Rylan Baine,” Brun explained. He jerked a thumb in my direction. “This one here says she’s his niece.”
Captain Milios’s dark gaze snapped to mine. “Name?”
“Mika Baine.”
“And the others?”
“I’m Felix –” Fenris began.
“Was I speaking to you?” the Captain snapped. He didn’t even bother to look at Fenris, his hard glare fixed on me like an arrow from a well-trained archer.
“No –,”
“Then shut up.” He arched his brows at me. “What are their names?”
Fenris’s lips pressed together so hard I thought he would swallow them, and I had to force myself not to laugh at the look of outrage burning in his eyes. He very clearly wasn’t used to being a subordinate. “Felix Lamos and Anaris Maren.”
“I’ve met Baine once,” Milios said, his tone implying that he was not one of Rylan’s fans. “He didn’t mention a niece called Mika.”
I snorted. “I bet you didn’t mention any of your relatives to him either. Or do the members of the Resistance like to sit around and talk about their families?” I knew he was bluffing, trying to jab holes into my story, and I wasn’t going to let him.
Captain Milios’s cheeks reddened. “I don’t like your tone, shifter. And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”
“You don’t have to take my word for it,” I said boldly. “Just ask Rylan. He’ll vouch.”
The Captain stared at us for a long moment, his dark eyes glittering. “I’ll send him a message to verify your story,” he said. “In the meantime, the three of you can do grunt work around here and earn your keep.” He turned toward Brun. “Sergeant, assign these three quarters and put them to work. I want eyes on them at all times. They are not to leave the camp under any circumstances, and they are not allowed near the prisoners.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
“Grunt work?” Fenris seethed as we followed the sergeant outside. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had to do something as menial as grunt work!”
“Welcome to the life of an apprentice,” I told him, and with great effort managed to keep a straight face as Brun unwittingly led us into our new lives as undercover operatives.
After having our belongings thoroughly searched, Sergeant Brun showed us to our quarters. West of the main street were two rows of houses, mostly too dilapidated for use, but ten or so that were useable had been converted into makeshift quarters. The sergeant knocked on a door, and we stood outside the false-fronted cabin for at least a minute before it was yanked open by an orange-eyed shifter. His skin was the color of heavily-creamed coffee, and his thick, dark hair and rounded nose indicated Sandian descent.
“Sergeant.” The tiger shifter saluted, and his dark brows furrowed as he took us in. “How can I help you?”
“We’ve got newcomers, and I’m assigning one of them to your barracks.” Sergeant Brun motioned Fenris forward. “Recruit, this is Private Faresh Malara. Private, this is Felix Lamos, who is here on probation. Show him around and get him settled, then bring him to the mess hall for lunch.”
“How much do you want to bet this is Daresh’s brother?” I asked Fenris as unease shifted through my stomach.
“I would be willing to put significant coin down on that.” Fenris didn’t look my way, but I could sense his own discomfort. “I can only hope that he never finds his brother, at least not until we are gone.”
“Yes, sir.” Faresh saluted, then led Fenris into the
house. I cursed silently as I watched them disappear, wishing that I’d slit Daresh’s throat after all. The last thing I needed was Fenris being killed in his sleep for revenge.
We’re just going to have to get out of here fast, I told myself as we followed Sergeant Brun through the rows of houses.
He stopped at a small, single-story shack at the end of one of the rows. There was no porch or false front, and the windows were boarded up, but the siding looked okay and I didn’t see any obvious holes in the roof. I waited for the sergeant to knock on the door, but instead he opened it and walked right inside.
Annia and I exchanged a glance, then hurried inside after him. Peering into the dim interior, which was lit only by the rays of light seeping through the cracks of the boarded-up windows, I saw that it was a single-room dwelling, with two cots set up on opposite sides of the room, two chests, and two small, rough-hewn tables that held oil lamps waiting to be lit.
“Since you two are the only women here, you’re getting your own space,” the sergeant said, and he didn’t sound too happy about it. “Women are born troublemakers, especially shifter females.” He sent me a disapproving look. “I don’t care who sleeps in which bed, but I expect you to keep it clean. There are two working outhouses in the area, one behind the barrack three houses down from you, and there’s a well not too far from here where you can fetch water for sponge baths.” He pointed to a rusty bucket.
“Yes sir,” Annia and I both said. I fought against the urge to wrinkle my nose at the idea of going without a bath or shower for months on end – the sergeant would gleefully pounce on any opportunity to point out that a female like me was too pampered to be a soldier.
“You won’t be getting uniforms until the Captain can verify your story, but later on today you can stop by the supply station and pick up basic toiletries. I’ll make sure some are set aside for you.”
“Thank you, sergeant,” we both said.
“Alright, now set your things down here and come with me. It’s time to put you two to work.”
“Where exactly are you assigning us?” I asked. I hoped it was something that allowed me to move around the camp, so that we could discover the location of the prisoners.
“The kitchens, of course.” The sergeant arched a brow, and for the first time his lips quirked into a smile. “It’s about time someone brought a woman’s touch to the slop they serve as food around here.”
11
“This is unbelievable,” I growled under my breath as I scrubbed furiously at a cast iron pan using coarse salt and steel wool. The sleeves of my shirt were rolled up to my elbows, and I was wearing a colorful rag wrapped around my head to keep my hair away from the food. “You’d think they’d at least give us a little bit of a learning curve before dumping us in here on our own.”
“Yeah, right.” Annia snorted from behind me as she wiped down the stove. “I swear the cook practically skipped out of the doors as soon as we arrived. Guy was fucking whistling a happy tune. Even if the sergeant had told him to stay, I bet he would have hightailed it as soon as we were left alone.”
We talked quietly to make sure no one overheard us, though that was unlikely due to all the background noise. The mess hall was nearly full to bursting, with over a hundred men sitting ass to elbow at the picnic-style tables and stuffing food into their mouths from rough-hewn wooden trenchers. A third or so were shifters, and they mostly sat with each other. We’d had less than two hours to take the disgusting slop the former cook was putting together and turn it into a passable meal. I thanked Magorah that Annia knew her way around a kitchen, because my own cooking skills were rudimentary at best. We’d turned out some decent sandwiches using canned meat, fried potatoes, and green beans, and you would have thought we’d served them a gourmet meal from the way the men’s eyes lit up as they came up to the serving counter with their trenchers. Quite a few of them had complimented us on more than our culinary skills, their eyes lingering on the swell of our breasts beneath our shirts. It had taken me every ounce of willpower I had to smile flirtatiously at them, when what I really wanted to do was punch them in their leering faces. But if we wanted to find out where the prisoners were hidden, we had to start making some friends, and kicking these soldiers’ asses wasn’t going to help.
“I just wish we weren’t stuck in here the entire day,” I grumbled. “How are we supposed to talk to any of the men if they’re out there and we’re in here?” I spared a glance toward the mess hall, which I could see clearly through the large, rectangular opening in the wall. Fenris was sitting at one of the tables with several shifters, looking withdrawn and uncomfortable as he ate. The other shifters were ignoring him, and he made no effort to try and insert himself into the conversation. “Fenris certainly doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Annia moved to cleaning the steel countertop in the center of the kitchen, and I had to move my cast iron off it to get out of her way. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, though. We’re the only women around, and those men probably haven’t seen a pretty face in months. I’ll bet a few of them are going to wander back here. And besides, the guy who’s on babysitting duty can’t stop staring at my ass.”
I flicked my gaze toward the soldier standing about twenty feet away in the mess hall next to the entrance nearest us. He was the classic tall, dark, and handsome human, with a day’s growth of beard on his strong jaw, and his pale blue eyes seemed to follow Annia around the room. I met his eyes, and watched with amusement as his high cheekbones colored before he jerked his gaze away, scanning the rest of the mess hall. Right now there were three other soldiers policing the mess hall, mostly there to make sure the other soldiers played nice and didn’t end up in a food fight or something worse, but he’d been here before lunch. I had a feeling he was stationed here at the captain’s orders to make sure we didn’t pull anything fishy.
“Well between the two of us, I’m pretty sure you’ve got the best shot at seducing info out of these guys,” I admitted as I finished wiping out the cast iron pan. I hung it up on its hook by the stove, then grabbed a rag and started wiping down the cooking dishes that were hanging in the drying rack. “They don’t seem to like me as much.”
Annia shrugged. “If you were a human, they’d be just as into your ass as they are mine, especially since you’ve got more of it than I do.” Annia grinned at me, and I stuck out my tongue – I was in good shape but I didn’t have Annia’s willowy figure. “You could probably get one of those shifter boys to tell you something, though.”
“I think I’ll leave the seducing up to you.” There was only one male I wanted to get my hands on, a mage with violet eyes and dark hair the color of glossy cherrywood. Seduction wasn’t really my strong suit – I just didn’t have the patience for it, and besides, it was almost impossible to lie to a shifter about finding them attractive.
As the men finished eating, they brought their trenchers up one by one and thanked us for the meal. Annia stationed herself by the counter and took her time chatting each one up, giving them smiles and winks while I busied myself washing dishes. There wasn’t really time for her to get any info out of the men, but we both knew they’d be thinking about her, and hopefully one of them would come back.
Fenris was one of the last to come up, and as he handed Annia a trencher, I heard him whisper “Good luck,” to her under his breath. A smile curved my lips – he knew what she was doing just as well as I did. To me, he added, “I’ve been put on maintenance crew, so I’ll have more mobility around the camp than you. I’ll tell you if I learn anything interesting, and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Will do,” I told him, and then he left.
Soon, the hall was empty except for Tall, Dark, and Handsome, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he watched us work – or rather Annia. I nearly rolled my eyes – his own were glued so firmly to her ass that I doubted he’d even noticed my expression.
“Showtime,” A
nnia muttered as she grabbed a bucket and a rag. Now that lunch was over, it was time for us to clean up after the men. I took up a broom and started sweeping the kitchen, but kept one eye on Annia as she approached the table nearest to the mess hall and set her bucket of water down. She dunked her rag into the water, then leaned across the table and wiped it down, giving the soldier a great view of her cleavage. The guy’s throat bobbed, and as his eyes brightened with lust I was sure there were things bobbing beneath his clothing too.
Annia chose that moment to straighten up and “accidentally” knock over the bucket of water. “Oh no!” she cried as liquid spilled all over the long-sleeved white shirt she wore. The wet fabric stuck to her like a second skin, becoming translucent. I had to choke back a laugh when the soldier’s eyes nearly bugged out at the sight of Annia’s nipples poking through the fabric. Men were so easy.
“A-are you alright?” the soldier asked, springing forward as his brain finally kicked into gear. “You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”
“N-no.” Annia shivered, pulling at her shirt. “I’m just cold and wet and oh, I hate this!” she wailed, actual tears gathering in her dark eyes. “I need to change my clothes now, but if I don’t get this done in time, Captain Milios said he was going to have me thrown in the dungeon!”
“There, there, now.” The soldier patted her arm, adopting the soothing and slightly patronizing tone men tended to use around hysterical women. “Captain Milios isn’t going to throw you into the dungeon just for spilling water on yourself.”
“That’s what one of the soldiers told me,” Annia sniffled. “And they’ve been here longer than I have.”
“Yeah, well some of the guys here can be asses.” The soldier shrugged off his khaki shirt and handed it to her, revealing an undershirt that clung to his muscular torso. I’d always assumed the Resistance was just a ragtag bunch, but the men I’d seen here were all in good fighting shape and uniformed. They weren’t perfect, but they were far more disciplined than I’d anticipated. “Here, wear this.”
