There are some giggles and unhelpful comments.
My fists clench, but I remind myself that I am here on a mission. And that mission doesn't call for unnecessary cat fights. “H-hi,” I manage to croak.
“Hi yourself. What's your name?” One of the girls asks in a challenging tone.
“Zo—” I clear my throat hurriedly. “Ana. My name is Ana Zen.”
“You just came in last night, right?” One of the older girls tilts her head at me.
I gulp and look down. I'm supposed to have been here two nights. That's what the Warden said.
Luckily for me, the girl takes my silence to be a sign of disorientation or nervousness. “Hey,” she says softly. “It's okay. It can be really frightening and confusing at first. But—you'll survive.”
I look up to see her smiling kindly at me.
“I'm Pam. And this is Kylee, May, Lilin and Riko.” She introduces the girls in turn. I smile up at them shakily. “Grab your toiletries, Ana,” Pam tells me. “We have to go wash up and get ready. You only have one hour.”
“One hour?” I sputter. Just to brush my teeth and wash my face?
Riko laughs, throwing back her black curls. “That was my initial reaction as well. One hour is barely enough, sister. You have to brush your teeth, bathe, shave, oil...” She begins ticking off the tasks on her fingers.
I fumble for my toiletries and see a small shaver in the mug. “Shave? Oh...”
“Yup. Everywhere,” Lilin chimes in, raising her arms and parting her legs to make her point.
“Got it.” I grab the towel from the side of my mattress.
“It looks like she has already shaven...down there,” May widens her hazel eyes and stares between my legs.
A few eyebrows are raised, and I detect pity and disdain on some of their faces. They must think that I have been working as a prostitute before I came to the Red Lantern, that I am just a transfer from the other Lantern branches around the State. All the girls speak at least a few words to me, at me or about me, except the red-haired one, Kylee. She just stares at me, her blue eyes watching me carefully. She keeps her face blank, her body language neutral, revealing nothing. She takes in everything, but gives nothing away. I can't tell what she is thinking or feeling. In this respect, she reminds me a little of Irin.
They start to leave the room, still muttering to one another while glancing furtively at me. I shuffle after them, keeping my head down. None of them attempt to engage me in conversation once we leave the room. The corridor is packed with girls from the other rooms. I estimate there are close to forty girls squeezed into the three rooms, which means that the other rooms house an average of seventeen girls. There are only six of us in our room, but I remember hearing May and Lilin whisper that more would be coming in tomorrow night. As replacements for...for what? Why is there a need for replacements?
An involuntary shudder courses down my body.
Back at the Palace, new Slaves and Sirens were captured and delivered to the Palace to replace those who were killed. I saw what they did to the Sirens and Slaves at the Palace. They were tortured and forced to fight each other to the death for the entertainment of the Emperor and his guests. The Sirens were abused and mutilated for the perverse pleasure of the Emperor and his guests. Those who survived were forced into gray uniforms to serve as Matrons. Others were tortured to death. Of course they had to have replacements. They had to replace those who were killed.
It must be the same here.
Squeezing my eyes shut briefly, I force those gruesome memories out of my mind. I have to blend in, survive, and find out as much as I can from the influential, well-connected patrons who frequent the Red Lantern. This is neither the time nor the place to lose my wits and have a meltdown.
Steeling myself, I trudge after the jostling crowd of girls who are making a beeline for the sole bathroom at the end of the corridor.
Squeezing into the cramped, dank bathroom, I stare around as the girls start stripping and stepping under the shower heads lining the walls. There are no partitions or walls or doors in the bathroom. You will have to wash, shower, do everything in the open. There are about ten shower heads and ten sinks. All the showers are turned on at full blast, and I see the girls have started soaping and shaving rigorously. I catch sight of Pam brushing her teeth at a corner sink. She sees me and waves me over.
“No time to stand and stare, Ana. You have to do this with military precision and speed every morning,” she says, rinsing her mouth. “Once you see an empty shower, go for it. Then head back to the room and do your make up.”
I nod, but she has already spun round and is heading for the showers.
Fumbling for my toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste in the mug, I manage to clean my teeth and wash my face in a hurry. I spot an empty shower and gather my things quickly. But as I turn around, Kylee elbows her way past me and beats me to the empty shower. As she strips, she turns her head to the side and watches me out of the corner of her eye, studying my reaction.
The water runs down her face, but still she keeps her cool, impassive gaze on me. I meet her eyes steadily, calmly, until I notice that the blond girl beside her has finished showering.
Still keeping my face blank, I walk quickly over to step under the shower once the girl leaves. I start pumping soap onto my palm from the plastic dispenser mounted on the wall and start shampooing and soaping. I can still feel Kylee's eyes on me, but I am not bothered. I have to keep up with the rest of the girls. Treat this like a military operation, Pam said. Swift, sharp and silent.
I rinse the soap off my hair and body, and I blink the water from my eyes to see Kylee shaving her underarms and legs with practiced, efficient strokes. I run the blunt shaver a couple of times down my legs to get rid of one or two stray hairs, and rinse off quickly.
By the time I finish drying myself, Kylee has already wrapped her towel around her body and gathered up her things.
The bathroom is almost empty. I count less than half a dozen girls left in the bathroom. I don't want to be the last to leave so I wrap myself up in the rough towel and trail after Kylee. We enter the room together, but she doesn't even glance at me this time. She simple strolls over to her mattress and unwraps the towel around her body to dry her hair. The rest of the girls are combing their hair and passing a tube of lipstick around.
I pull the plastic comb from my mug and start dragging it through my tangled brown hair. Taking the cue from the rest of the girls, I dress myself in the thin tank top and tiny shorts.
“Here, Ana.” Pam holds out the lipstick to me. “Each room gets just one tube of lipstick. Use it sparingly. Apply a little to your lips, cheeks and eyelids. And blend, blend, blend.”
I nod and do as she says. Pam tilts her head to the side as she watches me. I throw a sidelong glance at her and she smiles. She is half a head shorter than me, with brown wavy hair, full lips, gangly limbs and small breasts. She even has a scar on her left shoulder, like me. She could be my elder sister.
As she moves forward to replace the cap on the lipstick, her eyes linger at the ugly scar on my left shoulder.
“This scar...” she begins.
“Yeah.” The Emperor gave it to me.
Her lips quaver, but she doesn't ask further. I won't ask her how she got that jagged scar on her shoulder either.
“Hey, if you're done, can I have the lipstick?” Kylee calls out impatiently.
“Oh, sure.” Pam gives me a shrug and moves off to hand the lipstick to Kylee. I stare around at the other girls' made up faces. They have applied the color expertly, with their lips, cheeks and eyelids subtly shaded. Frowning, I gingerly dab my fingers over my lips and cheeks. I think I might have applied a tad too much color on my face. I can't imagine how ridiculous I look right now.
May and Lilin come over to me, tittering. “No, no, you're overdoing your cheeks,” May shakes her head. “You don't want to look like a clown.”
“And your eyes,” Lilin says in a disapproving t
one. “Do you want to look like you've just been in a fight? Here, let me do it. You've got to blend it outwards, like this...”
The two of them cluck and chatter non-stop as they knead their fingers all over my cheeks, eyelids and lips. I hold my breath, listening to their rapid fire, half-completed sentences and comments.
Finally, they step back and survey their handiwork. “There! This is how you do it.”
They hi-five each other, and smirk at me.
“Um, thanks,” I stammer.
Shrugging, they turn and leave the room, as I raise my hand to feel my gooey, sticky face. There is no mirror, so I can't really see what they have done. Pam walks past me and smiles. “May and Lilin are really good with make up. They were traveling with a dance troupe, doing the dancers' make up before...” She trails off.
“Before they were caught,” I offer.
Pam shakes her head. “They were sold. The troupe needed money. The troupe master sold them to the Red Lantern.”
“Sold,” I repeat numbly.
“Yes. They hope to buy themselves out of the Red Lantern. They just have to earn enough. But enough is...” She doesn't finish. Instead she lets out a brittle, bitter laugh.
Enough is never enough.
The girls can never buy themselves out.
“Let's go,” she says with a soft sigh. “There is a new Warden in this morning. If you get into the Warden's bad books, she can make one week feel like a century.”
“The Wardens are soldiers from the Imperial Army, aren't they?” I say as we leave the room.
“Yes. They usually send the female soldiers. But don't be fooled. They may be female, but they're soldiers of the Imperial Army all right. They are well-armed, and they can call for back-up anytime. Last month, a few girls tried to escape. The Warden pressed the alarm, and in a matter of seconds, I swear, seconds! The entire castle was swarming with Imperial soldiers! The girls didn't even make it to the edge of the woods behind the castle,” she finishes quietly.
“Were they...”
She nods. “Shot in the back.”
“No wonder there are no guards around,” I mumble.
Pam snorts. “The soldiers are better deployed elsewhere. Fighting, killing, invading, crushing and capturing the rebels...”
Her last few words send a stab of cold fear and dread through my heart. Jaxon was a Commander of the Imperial Army. Now, as a rebel leader, he would be hunted down by the black-uniformed soldiers he had once led. He was a wanted man, a traitor of the State. If he had been captured—
“Ana, Ana! You okay?”
I gasp and jerk back from Pam. She withdraws her hand from my shoulder in a hurry.
“Ah...I'm sorry, Pam. I...I just...”
“That's okay. The first day I was brought here, I was catatonic. The soldiers pulled me away from my fiance and when he tried to stop them, they shot him. I saw them shoot James in the leg. But I know that James is still alive. But if I tried to escape, they'll kill James...”
I reach out to hold her hand. She squeezes my hand hard, and turns to me with round, dead eyes.
I don't know what to say to her. In all likelihood, her James is dead, killed not long after she was taken. But I can't tell her that. She would never accept that.
My grip on her hand tightens as I suddenly realize that I might be stubbornly clinging on to the same illusion. No, no! Jaxon is not dead! I will never accept that. Never.
Riko and Kylee push past us out of the room. I release Pam's cold hand and stumble out into the crowded corridor. There is a loud beep and the sliding door opens. With nervous coughs and murmurs, the girls stream out of the door and step into the plush interior of the Red Lantern.
CHAPTER FIVE
I suck in a steadying breath and sweep out of the corridor with the rest of the girls.
I feel the lush carpet under my feet, and see the rich wood paneling of the walls, a stark contrast to the world we inhabit behind the sliding door. I am going back the same way I came last night. We walk across the grand foyer with the beautiful, marble fountain. I glance at the glittering water and frown at my reflection as I brush past the fountain.
I look somehow changed, aged. Much older than my eighteen years.
At the side of the foyer is a set of ornate double doors, which open to a majestic dining room. The long table is set with porcelain plates and silverware. The girls immediately take their places at the long table, sitting down in silence. I find an empty seat and plonk myself down. I don't want to be the last one standing.
A small side door opens and two middle-aged women enter. One of them is carrying a broken basket overladen with bread, while the other has two pitchers in her hands. The women shuffle round the table, placing a large roll of bread on each plate and pouring water into the glasses.
I stare at the two ladies, who keep their eyes and heads down as they finish their tasks in silence. So the serving and cleaning staff are kept separate from the girls. I wonder how many of them are in the castle. How many of us.
Just as I am bending forward to sniff at the bread and squint at the glass of water in front of me, I hear chairs being scraped back as the girls rise in unison. I leap to my feet, catching the back of my chair just in time to stop it from crashing to the floor.
A tall woman with jet black hair which she wears in a long braid has stepped through the double doors. She closes the double doors silently behind her, and with a snap of her fingers, dismisses the two serving women. They bow low and hurry from the dining room, ducking through the side door.
This must be the new Warden. I tilt my head slightly to watch her out of the corner of my eye. She is wearing a long-sleeved, black military shirt without any insignia. Her legs are clad in dark pants and combat boots. Just like the old Warden. But unlike the old Warden, she is not wearing a cap and a mask.
The Warden who received me last night was a member of the resistance. I cannot assume that this new Warden would aid me. In fact, I cannot depend on anyone here to help me, not even the girls in my room. Pam? Pam has her own problems, her own demons. I am here for a purpose. And if anyone finds out who I am or what I am here for, I am royally screwed. And I can't screw up. For Jaxon's sake. For all our sakes.
The Warden walks with unhurried, measured steps towards the head of the table. Everyone keeps their head down. As she moves down the table, she drags an electronic tablet from her belt and logs onto the database of the Red Lantern. Reading off the name list, she calls out our names one by one, “Aabin, Kara.”
A petite girl with auburn hair standing just opposite me lifts her right hand and answers, “Kara Aabin here, Warden.” The Warden nods and Kara sits down stiffly.
“Brown, Mia.”
“Mia Brown here, Warden!” Mia shouts from the head of the long table and sits down after a beat.
“Crow, Sally.”
As the Warden goes down the list, I realize that she is calling out the names in alphabetical order. Their last names, from A to Z. I am Ana Zen, so I'll should be one of the last to be called, if not the very last.
My nervousness grows as the names roll by and one by one, the girls sit down. There are less than ten of us left standing.
My eyes flit round the table. Kylee is still standing, and I see her eyes dart to me before flicking away.
The roll call continues, and more girls sit down.
The Warden looks up from her tablet. “Winter, Kylee.”
“Kylee Winter here, Warden,” Kylee raises her hand and drones.
She sits down slowly, leaving just me and one other girl standing. I can feel frowns and stares being thrown my way. The girls from the other rooms would not have seen me before. I am a new face to them, and for a moment, I wonder why the old Warden had chosen this name for me. Why didn't she choose Ana Matthews or Ana Linn or something that would place me smack in the middle of the list, where no one would notice me?
“Young, Jennifer.”
“Jennifer Young here, Warden,” the tall brun
ette at the corner squeaks and slumps into her chair.
The Warden looks at her tablet then cocks her head at me.
“Zen, Ana.”
My knees almost give out.
“Ana Zen here, Warden,” I say, willing my voice not to tremble.
The Warden frowns at her tablet. “You...are new here.”
I gulp. “Yes, Warden.”
My palms are starting to sweat as I clench and unclench my fists. Please don't ask me anything more. The old Warden had told me that the database would record that I joined the Red Lantern two nights ago. But I only came in last night. What should I say? What does the database really reflect? Am I about to be busted?
I wait for the death blow, staring straight ahead.
“Sit, Ana.” The Warden puts her tablet away and waves me down.
I collapse onto my seat, sitting on my hands to stop them from shaking.
The Warden clasps her hands behind her back and surveys us. “Eat.”
The girls all reach out and grab the bread roll with their hands. With heads bent, they start gnawing and tearing at the bread with their fingers and teeth. They seem to be trying to eat as fast as they can, but the bread looks too tough.
I test the bread with my fingers, trying to peel a piece off my bread roll but it is as hard as stone. I knock the bread against my knuckles. It feels like a rock. This is stale, dry bread, hardly edible but it is the only thing we are given.
I watch the girls gulp down water and try to choke down their bread. I grab the glass and swallow a mouthful of cold water. Inhaling sharply, I attack the bread with a vengeance. Clamping my jaws around one corner of the rock hard bread roll, I twist the roll round and round with my hands and jerk my head to try to bite a damn piece off. I keep at it, biting, twisting, chewing, swallowing, forcing the bread down my throat bit by bit. Eating has never been such hard work but I am not giving up. I will eat this, finish every stale crumb to stay alive. I need the strength, but at the moment, it feels as though I am using up all my strength just to finish the bread.
Release In The Dark (DARK erotic romance series) Page 3
