by Ginna Moran
“He was already dead...” Damn it. It sounds like I just admitted to guilt.
The CO flaps his wings and curls his hands into fists. “Keep that shit to yourself. I’ll keep an eye out as a courtesy to the Drekis, and you can tell the Darkonians my debts are paid in full. Now stay out of trouble for ten minutes. I want to be able to give a good behavior report when the High Council reconsiders your isolation sentence. I’m sure you don’t want to spend more time in the pits than you have to.”
I’m not sure how I feel about that. I hate the idea of spending day after day in the pit, but with it comes secret visits with my mates. I know from Maddox that the High Council focuses and pours their power into keeping inmates caged in rather than keeping people out, so sneaking in isn’t as difficult.
“I will try my best,” I say, taking the sweet approach.
The CO flares his nostrils and purses his lips. “If you don’t, it’ll be the Darkonians who owe me.”
Grabbing my hands, he locks a magical chain around my wrists, restraining my arms. Annoyance washes through me. How the hell can he do this knowing that someone is after me and seeking revenge? He says he’ll keep an eye out for me, but how can I trust him?
I shake my hands, feeling a small shock of power. “Is this necessary?”
He crosses his arms. “It’s protocol. Now go walk or some shit. I can’t have you hanging out with me.”
“Bad for your reputation?” I retort, shuffling my feet instead of testing my luck.
“Something like that, princess.” With his words, he launches into the sky and flies toward a platform overlooking the prison yard.
He motions for me to scram, but I don’t even know where I should go. I guess I’ll just walk the perimeter and hope no one notices me until I’m forced back into the pit for another night. Energy hums above me as green electricity crackles atop the high, barbed wire protected walls. Another barrier, made of chain-link and more razor wire separates me from an open walkway for the guards to move from building to building in this mega prison.
I spot a couple of fae with clipped wings hanging out in a few different clusters. I wonder if they knew Rose. With the thought of the murderous fairy princess, my chest clenches. I can’t even think about her without fear and anger. So I shove thoughts of her into the dark recesses of my mind and stroll faster toward a patch of grass to sit on. Maybe I can use it to rub away some of the grossness from the pits.
A quiet whistle cuts through the hum of magic zinging across the barriers. “Hey, Red. You look like shit. They been keeping you in the pits this whole time?”
Quillon stands a dozen feet away near some empty stone bleachers, used as a sitting area of sorts during yard time. I stop in my tracks and hold my chained wrists close to my chest. I knew Quillon was with me when the High Council arrived and arrested us, but somehow his appearance still surprises and unnerves me. I should be worried that he’s here and unprotected. Baker knows Kash bowed to Quillon and if he dies, so does Kash. The thought flips my stomach. My sudden need to protect this asshole really messes with my head.
“What? Can’t talk?” Quillon asks, twisting his lips to the side.
Inhaling a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and stride toward him. His cocky-ass smile disappears with my approach, and he takes an automatic step back and raises his palms to me.
“Easy, Red. I’ve been hurt enough because of you,” he quips, shuffling back another foot. “I only want to talk.”
Fury explodes through me. “You’ve been hurt because of me? Are you fucking kidding me, Quillon? You’re insane! You tricked me! You’ve been manipulating us all this whole time. Be thankful I can’t kill you.”
He releases a growl, his features hardening. If his hands didn’t glow with the same magic suppressing brands that mine do, I know he’d try to intimidate me with his lycan form. Like that could even work after everything I’ve been through.
“Be thankful I don’t bite your head off, you bitch,” he mutters, glowering. “All of this could’ve been avoided had you just been smart enough to know your damn place. You act as if you’re fucking better than me, but you’re not. I have power far greater than you can imagine. Enough that Lazlo will be getting me out soon. He knows I’m useful. He’ll even let me keep your mate as my little pet. I might allow you some occasional alone time in exchange for a show every now and then. Hell, you can earn more than that if you give in and let me fuck you. It could be a good life. Lazlo offered you a deal to ensure your freedom from this hell. I bet he would—”
Launching forward, I surprise the hell out of him by tackling him to the ground. I slam the magical chain into his face, and he bucks his body, managing to knock me off him. My back hits the ground with a thud. I somersault, throwing my legs over my head and scramble to my feet. Quillon swipes blood from his face, sending it spattering across the ground. Fuck, I’ve never seen something so satisfying. I know Kash will forgive me if he felt the pain. I’m damn certain he’d tell me to do it again.
Quillon charges toward me, his eyes flickering with green as his lycan tries to break through. I brace to fight him, showing him his true place. Because I am better than him, and he’s beneath me. If he even thinks for another second that I’ll ever resort to doing what he wants out of desperation, he’ll be sorely disappointed.
“Inmates, down!” a deep, sharp voice yells before pain bursts in my hands. “Get down and don’t fucking move!”
I glare at Quillon, my anger snuffing out my good senses. He just gets under my skin and in my head. I can’t help myself. I’ve never wanted to see someone punished more in my life than I do with him. He deserves it. I want to beat karma and take matters into my own hands. All I know is that even if he doesn’t want the cure, I will force it down his throat and murder him with my dragon fire. He will regret ever messing with my life, the fucking selfish bastard.
“Last warning!” The familiar voice of the fae CO, who brought me out of the pit calls, touching his feet to the ground to assist—damn. I recognize the other CO, CO Lowe, from my time here before.
The second our eyes meet, I know something is wrong. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
A hand locks into my hair and forces me onto my stomach, trapping my hands between my body and the compacted dirt. Pain swells through me, and uncontrollable tears blur my eyes. The fae CO straddles me, roughing me up on purpose, like he doesn’t want CO Lowe to know he’s supposed to watch out for me.
“You both are going to the pits,” the fae CO says, growling in my ear. “Two nights.”
I clench my jaw as the fae CO hoists me to my feet. He sets me beside him, gathering the back of my jumpsuit in his hand like I might rush Quillon again. I try my best to keep my cool, knowing that going back to the pits is for the best. Ambrose promised he’d sneak Maddox and Rowan in to see me tonight. As for Theo? Who the hell knows. I don’t particularly want to see his asshole face, but I’d choose to see it over having to deal with Quillon ever again.
“Make it three nights,” CO Lowe snaps, dragging Quillon to his feet. “And after your visitation hours. Inmate D64901 and Inmate D64876 have been summoned by the High Council for questioning in regards to the Liohts.”
The fae CO cocks his head. “I didn’t get the—”
A loud buzzer blares, announcing yard time is up for the inmates, cutting him off. Icy dread trickles through me. A whisper of a smirk crosses Quillon’s face, though CO Lowe remains expressionless.
“I’ll escort them, all right? Your shift’s about up anyways,” CO Lowe says, shoving Quillon in the back. He doesn’t hook chains to him or anything, and I know my instincts were right. Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.
I try to back up, but the fae CO holds me in place. “Don’t let him,” I plead, jerking my head to meet his gaze. “I want you to escort me. Please.”
CO Lowe gives me a once-over and shakes his head. “Don’t be scared, Inmate D64901. The Drekis are my friends. I’ll make sure you make it safely.”
&nbs
p; Nope. Not happening. There is no fucking way I’m going with CO Lowe and Quillon, especially because I realize he was the CO to take me to the Visitation Center where Lazlo tried to kill me.
And fuck. With the memory, a dozen emotions rush through me. This isn’t even regarding the High Council. I know it. I can feel it deep in my bones.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind,” the fae CO says, turning his attention back to CO Lowe.
His eyes flicker with blue light for a split second, but I know I didn’t just imagine it. “I got them. Don’t worry.”
Heat rushes from my core and into my hands, triggering pain as the brands and restraints shock me with power. I stiffen, my body going crazy. There is no way in hell that I’m going with CO Lowe.
“Delphia,” CO Lowe says, using my birth name. “Don’t fight—”
My dragon fire breaks through the magic suppressing spell once again and explodes between my palms. I chuck it at CO Lowe and Quillon, blasting them off their feet. Jerking away from the fae CO, I make a run for it.
Something zaps me in my back, stealing my breath. I fall forward and hit the dirt, crushing my arms in the process. Strong hands grip my waist and dangle me facing out. Silence falls over the prison yard.
With a shock of blue light, Lazlo appears in front of me. “Delphia, my pet. Must you always make things so hard?” He closes the space and grabs my chin. “I’m giving you one more chance, so let’s talk.”
I spit in his face.
Chapter 23
Coward
“TRICKY, TRICKY, MY BEAUTIFUL BEAST,” Lazlo says, drawing his finger along the magical collar around my neck. “Who did this? I’ll devour their whole coven’s power line and feed them to you when I take control back.”
I flare my nostrils, trying to jerk away, but I’m frozen in his magic. The Visitation Center remains as I remembered it, dark and empty. A table rests in the middle of the room, yet Lazlo forces me to sit in a chair in the corner.
“It had to have been Ambrose,” Quillon says, leaning on the wall of the small visiting cell.
“A dragon clan would never allow such a thing. Which coven did you say he was a part of?” Lazlo asks, straightening his back and rubbing his hands together, sending sparks of blue magic through the air.
“He is alone as far as I know.” Quillon keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling, refusing to look at me. Fucking coward. “Rose said he was far more powerful than expected. She nearly didn’t get out alive.” What the fuck? He knew she was going to attack. His pleas, begging me not to leave him alone with the Drekis were fake. I can’t help but wonder if the two of them had been working together all along. I mean, he never even mentioned or reacted to her supposed death by my hands...fuck.
“Impossible. No one can have this kind of magic alone.” Clapping his hands, Lazlo disappears, only to reappear in front of Quillon. Lazlo points his finger at the lycan and lifts him off his feet with magic, hanging him like a ragdoll by the neck without even touching him. “Now tell me who. You’ve been with them for weeks. Don’t make me regret including you in my bargain with the fae princess.” Shit, I was right.
Quillon growls, his face turning red. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Then you are no use to me!” Lazlo gathers power in his palm, preparing to throw it at Quillon.
I scream, the noise muffled and low, but it’s enough to get Lazlo to freeze and turn his attention to me. Dropping Quillon, he claps his hands again and materializes in front of me. He traces the seam of my mouth, tilting his head with a leer.
“Do you have something to tell me, my beast?” Lazlo asks, getting into my face close enough to catch the strange powdery scent of his skin. “Go on, speak up.”
I gasp, my mouth finally opening, though the rest of my body remains frozen. “He’s telling the truth. Please, don’t kill him.”
Lazlo narrows his eyes. “After everything he’s done, you plead for his life?”
“As long as her mate is my guardian,” Quillon mutters.
I cringe and slowly nod. “Please.”
Sighing, Lazlo grabs my hair and pulls my stiff body closer, the chair squeaking on the tiled floor with his magic. Pressing his lips to my earlobe, he says, “Then tell me—quietly—how the warlock managed. If you don’t, I’ll kill the lycan.”
Shit. I don’t really know. If I say the wrong thing, this could be it for my sweet, romantic mate. And then me. Because I will kill Lazlo if he tries.
I puff a breath between my lips. “I—I don’t know exactly but—”
Flicking his fingers, Lazlo sends Quillon crashing into the wall. Quillon hollers and thrashes, the shock of Lazlo’s power hurting him.
“Wait!” I screech. “Wait. It might have to do with—”
Lazlo slaps his hand over my mouth. “Whisper it, my pet.”
It takes everything in me to control the pitch of my voice. “The Darkonians. Ambrose told me they’re his familiars.” I pray to the universe that my answer is enough to get him to spare Quillon. I have no fucking clue if their bond to each other could possibly be the reason.
“Are you sure?” Lazlo asks, his eyes flickering with blue bolts of power.
I nod. “That’s what he said.”
“Well, that makes this a bit interesting.” Waving his hand over me, he releases me from his magical hold. “I have a deal, my pet. I know you will continue to put up a fight until I break you, but I see that might not be necessary.”
“So what? Are you going to leave me alone? Go after Ambrose?” I ask, hating that I must know the answers. He shouldn’t have this kind of power over me.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. That will depend on you,” he says, his face contorting into the strange monster he truly is. His teeth elongate into fangs, and he grows in height, towering over me like his size could even intimidate me.
“Of course it does,” I mutter, shifting in my seat, preparing to get up to attack if I have to.
“I want you as my pet, Delphia. I want you to serve me and help me dismantle the High Council. But you can’t do that if you serve another.” His voice deepens with his words. “I’m also aware of his power and know better than to test the Darkonian guard without knowing everything, so I want you to kill him. Kill him and break his hold on you.”
He’s crazy.
“Or you could get the Darkonians to bow to me. With their loyalty will come Ambrose’s.” Lazlo grins at his ultimatum, looking ready to high-five himself. The fucker.
I consider screaming at him that I choose neither, but I know better than to lose my chance at using Lazlo. There is only one way I can accomplish what he asks, and it isn’t possible being locked away in Max.
“I will get the Darkonian’s to bow,” I say, remaining expressionless. “They’d deserve it for forcing a union bond on me.” If I just agree, Lazlo might know I have other plans. He might not give me the chance to try and instead use me to get to Ambrose. I can’t let that happen. I need Ambrose. I like him and don’t want to be the reason for his undoing.
“Is that so?” Lazlo asks, turning his attention to Quillon.
Quillon gives a sharp nod in confirmation.
“Interesting.” Turning his back on me, Lazlo closes the space to Quillon and extends his hand. “I’ll be in touch, my pet. Tell no one of our visit.”
I open my mouth to tell him to wait, but he grabs Quillon and the two of them disappear, leaving me alone.
Grabbing the chair, I throw it at the wall and scream in frustration. The fucker should’ve told me what his plan was. He should’ve just broken me out of here. But now? Fuck. I can’t stay here, waiting around for him. I need time to plan what to do. I don’t even know how bargains like this work. What cost will I pay if I fail?
A buzzer sounds through the room, and the door swings open to the hallway. I expect CO Lowe to be waiting for me, but an unfamiliar guard takes his place. The familiar flicker of magic dances across the man’s eyes, the lavender color setting off my fear instincts. He lo
oks nothing like McKenzie, but I don’t think coven members have to be related.
“Hands up, Inmate D64901,” the man snaps, yanking the magical chain from his belt. “Time to return to the pits.”
“Those won’t be necessary. I’m not going anywhere,” I say, wringing my hands together.
The CO steps closer, a scowl marring his face. I spot the word Bright sewn on his uniform and wonder if he might have an alliance with the Liohts. “Hands up,” he commands.
“What? Are you afraid of me?” I ask, stepping around the chair, using it as a barrier. “If you want to restrain me, you’re going to have to use your magic.”
He growls and tries to dodge around the chair to grab me. “Inmate, get on the floor. Now!”
“Make me! Use your magic to make me!” I yell, anger rushing through me. “Or are you afraid someone will know?”
Snagging the chair, I swing it, clocking him in the head. He yowls but doesn’t use his magic like I expect. In this moment, I know I’m right. He is afraid someone will know. Magic leaves a residue behind and a powerful witch might discover it.
“Ambrose, help me! Please, where are you?” I call, rushing toward the open door.
My heart sinks into my stomach at his lack of response. He probably isn’t arriving until later. By then, it might be too late.
“Lazlo!” I shout next, racing down the long hallway in the direction we came in from. “Lazlo, help!”
I hate—and I mean, fucking hate with a passion—the fact that I call out for the dickwad who wants to control the rest of my life. But I don’t know who else to call. I don’t know what to do. I expected an enemy being an inmate, and not a warlock guard. I should’ve known better than to think that the vampire attack was the worst of it.
Reaching the exit, I try to push the door open, but it doesn’t budge. I slam my shoulder into the heavy metal, praying that I can somehow manage the strength of all my dragon mates. Still, it doesn’t open. It doesn’t even quiver.
“You fucking bitch,” CO Bright growls, locking his fingers to the back of my neck.
