Trapped

by Jessica Lynch

  I bite back a moan.

  From behind me, I hear Rys call out softly, “Are you feeling well?”

  No.

  It’s even worse that he noticed it. I purposely kept my back to the bars when I woke up and realized I was feeling off. I hoped like hell that one of the guards would show up with the morning meal. When it became obvious that they were still too occupied, I crawled back to my cot without a word.

  Rys has been quiet since late last night. It’s almost as if we had an unspoken agreement to ignore each other after he shattered my hopes of escape. Not like it’s his fault. I gambled with my freedom when I chose a trip to Siúcra over staying with Veron and being his pet. I lost. The only one I can blame for that is me.

  Just like it’s all my fault that I’m hooked on the faerie food at all.

  I don’t answer him. Why? I can’t imagine he really gives a shit.

  And then he says the one thing guaranteed to catch my attention:

  “Are you hungry, Leannán?”

  I roll over.

  In his tanned hand, he’s holding a whole pear.

  I’m not like the fae. I don’t know how to keep my emotions close to my chest, how to hide what I’m feeling. It’s written all over my face. I’m an open book.

  One glance and he knows exactly how bad I want that.

  But he doesn’t make me ask for it. I don’t even have to answer his question.

  “Here. Catch.”

  His aim is impeccable. It’s my catching skills that are shitty.

  Rys waits for me to hobble out of the cot, my hand pressed to my lower stomach. With an underhand toss, he lobs the pear through the bars on his cell. It flies in an arc, sliding right through the gap in front of me. He couldn’t have made a more perfect throw.

  I miss it anyway.

  I’m just lucky it doesn’t go splat when it hits the floor. Instead, it bounces off the stone before rolling a few inches away from me.

  My first instinct is to pick it up and sink my teeth right into it. Considering every fae I’ve met acts like I’m no better than an animal, Rys probably wouldn’t be surprised if I gobbled the fruit down like I’m dying to do.

  Once the pear stops rolling, he shifts away from the front of his cell, sinking down on the floor once he’s gone to the other side. He props his back against the wall, one knee folded while the other lays flat. The soles on the bottom of his boots are thick yet worn, I notice. Probably from the way I’ve caught him constantly pacing his cell.

  Instead of snatching at the pear, I pick up gently, letting it fall into the cup of my palm. My stomach is still aching from hunger. It really hurts. I’m used to it, though, as much as I hate it. This isn’t the first time I’ve gone too long without some faerie food. Once I take my first bite, I’ll be fine.

  I think back to the other day, when I first met Rys and he watched me eat the meal brought by the Seelie guard. He tried to warn me off of the fruit but I knew it was too late.

  Now he does, too.

  Still, that doesn’t stop me from asking, “What’s this?”

  “For you, Leannán. Sometimes the guards are too distracted by the Fae Queen’s fancies to remember her prisoners. They’ve been good with feeding us for a while, but it wasn’t bound to last. Especially now that she’s dead.”

  “And the pear?”

  “I saved it in my cell in case you would need it. I want nothing in return. Just eat it.”

  Two mornings ago, I offered to share my breakfast with Rys. He refused. Even so, he thought to save something for me just in case—and right after he made a point to tell me that he was both dangerous and cruel.

  Huh.

  I should probably tell him no. I’ve learned a couple of things since I’ve been in Faerie and not entering into a debt or a bargain with one of the faerie folk is right at the top of the list, right after keeping my name to myself.

  But I also learned that the fae can’t lie. If you can trap them in an absolute statement—like I want nothing in return—then you can be pretty sure that they won’t suddenly change their mind later on.

  I glance down at the pear.

  Yeah. No way I can refuse it.

  I just… I don’t get why he would do that. What’s his motive? It can’t be out of the kindness of his heart. In my experience, the fae are cruel. Capricious. Arrogant, too. They don’t have hearts.

  I’m not gonna second guess it. I have the pear.

  “I— thank you.”

  I don’t know what it is that I said, but his expression shuts down. His face goes hard. His eyes turn dark.

  “Don’t thank me.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “The fruit is a gift, freely given. Don’t offend me with meaningless thanks. There is no debt. You owe me nothing. Now eat your cursed fruit. I can sense your hunger from my cage. It’s bothersome.”

  Well.

  Okay, then.

  4

  Day eighteen.

  Things have quieted down. To my relief, the lockdown lifted a couple of days ago. It was actually the morning after Rys gave me the pear which meant that I didn’t have to go another day without faerie fruit—or deal with the hunger pangs.

  It also meant that I learned my lesson. Since then, I’ve saved whatever I could for a small stash for when the guards inevitably forget to feed me again. After the way he freaked when I said ‘thanks’, I don’t want to have to rely on Rys looking out for me as a back-up plan.

  We’ve barely spoken. He’s kept to himself and, following his lead, I tried to busy myself in my cell. There’s not much to do—I’d just about kill for any of my art supplies—and I usually end up staring at the stone siding of the wall, creating pictures in my mind from the dips and divots.

  I trace the craggy brick with the tip of my finger so often that I’ve rubbed the skin raw. At first, I harbored this insane hope that maybe there’s a way to break through it. It didn’t take long before I accepted that that was impossible. I can’t stop, though. It’s almost an impulse. And, while I do that, I think about home.

  Jim must be losing his mind, not knowing what happened to me. Did he call my mom when I didn’t come home? My parents live in Florida now, but they’d be on the first flight home to help Jim search. I’m sure of it.

  Are the cops involved? I’m twenty-six, I have a full-time job, a live-in boyfriend, and no reason to just up and disappear. Is that how they would see it? That I took off, or will they assume something bad happened to me?

  One thing’s for sure. They’ll never guess I ended up in Faerie.

  Shit.

  I had a painting due. A pretty hefty commission. The deadline was the same day as the lockdown.

  Funny how something like that seems important. I’m stuck in another world, trapped in a prison, and I can’t stop thinking about the portrait I’ll never get the chance to finish. My client already gave me half the money upfront for it, too.

  So, yeah. It’s easy to ignore Rys’s brooding in the other cell when I’m too consumed with my own worries.

  Today it’s even easier. Mainly because, when I woke up this morning, Rys was already gone.

  Again.

  The events of the lockdown are still fresh in my mind. I can’t help but be afraid that the guards came back for another round of emptying the cells. If it wasn’t for the fact that, every few days, Rys disappears for a while, I’d probably be frantic at the thought of losing my only ally in this place.

  I trust him a little more now. It might have had something to do with the pear, but mostly it’s because I know that he used to be a guard. When he feels up to talking, he’s a pure treasure trove of information—and, despite his determination to stay on the inside, my only hope at getting out again.

  He won’t tell me where he goes when the guards force him from his cell at swordpoint. I tried to ask and, as he has a habit of doing, he quickly changed the subject before shutting down the conversation. It could be hours, it could be days, but it’s usually overni
ght when he disappears.

  That’s the worst. Even though we’re separated by two sets of bars, I feel better knowing I’m not the only one in our wing. When he’s gone, I can barely sleep at all. I keep expecting visitors.

  Later that afternoon, I get them.

  I’ve been dreading this. Dusk has been a shadow in the back of my mind, hovering where I just can’t forget about him. It’s been a couple of days since he’s done more than leer at me as he passed my cell, but those leers told me everything I needed to know. The Unseelie creep is biding his time.

  The lockdown and the Seelie captain’s unexpected visit might have thrown a wrench in his plans. As soon as he has the chance, he’ll be back.

  I just never expected that, when he did, he’d bring reinforcements.

  It’s just the two of them. Dusk, with his wolfish grin and lust in his silver gaze, and the same Seelie guard that Rys interrogated the day of the lockdown. His hair is still golden, though a paler shade, and he’s one of the only fae I’ve seen who wears it twisted in a knotted braid instead of keeping it loose. It makes it easy to recognize him.

  Vale, I remember. That’s what Rys called him.

  He was muttering something to Dusk, so quiet that I can’t make out the words, as they stroll into my wing. I hold my breath, hoping that this is just a regular patrol; I do that a lot when I see Dusk. He’s not the only one who eyeballs me as he goes past, but he’s the only one who makes me think he’s already fucking me in his head.

  I shiver and take a few frightened steps back when he stops in front of my cell.

  The conversation comes to a sudden halt right when he does. Vale turns on his heel, frowning when he sees that Dusk’s attention is locked on me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve come for the human.”

  Oh, no. No, no, no.

  I back up so suddenly that my back slams against the wall.

  Neither one notices.

  “You can’t,” argues Vale. “You know the agreement. You made the deal.”

  “I know. But this isn’t about the shadows. Captain Helix’s orders. Female prisoners should be together.”

  Realization dawns on Vale’s face. “You’re bringing her to Posey.”

  “For now.”

  “You should’ve told me.”

  “Why? You may be Seelie, but in Siúcra, it’s the Cursed Ones who truly hold the power because of the shadows. I let you come with me because you wanted to see the succubus. Now you have a reason to. Leave it at that.”

  The other guard doesn’t argue again.

  Great.

  With a smirk, Dusk crooks his long, pale finger at me. “Come, Elle. And behave. The captain might have passed down orders this morning, but don’t forget who’s in charge of the prison. And no agreement can save you if you try my patience.”

  I have no idea what he means by agreement, but I sure as hell can pick up on the threat in his gleeful tone. He’s begging me to fight back, to give him some kind of flimsy reason to retaliate.

  Two can play that game.

  Swallowing my nervousness, I think back to my last day at Veron’s when he told me to choose between him or Siúcra. And then I hold out my wrists to Dusk just the same way I offered them to the captain and his soldiers.

  Vale snorts. At my act of open defiance, Dusk’s expression grows dark, fury pulling his lips back as he bares his teeth.

  “Irons won’t be necessary,” he sneers. “But if you so much as stray off the path, you’ll regret it.”

  I’m sure I would.

  With a slash of his pale hand, the Unseelie pops the lock of my cell. “Follow Vale, Elle.” He pulls out his sword. “I’ll take up the rear.”

  “A human… and an unclaimed human at that,” purrs a rich, throaty, female voice. “And I thought I was the biggest lure in this prison.”

  My head jerks up.

  I’m sitting on the floor of my new cell, my back against the rough wall, my knees folded up to my chest. I had been wondering how long before the other woman woke up and noticed me and, well, I guess I must’ve dozed off.

  I rub my eyes, peering across the empty strait, meeting the curious look of the woman watching me back.

  It’s just the two of us now.

  When Dusk and Vale left me in my new cell, neither fae lingered. Dusk looked like he wanted to stay, but couldn’t, and Vale’s disappointment was super obvious when the redhead in the cell across from mine was sleeping in her bed.

  Bed, I noticed. Like the fancy suites on the other side of Siúcra, she has a luxurious bed… while I’m still stuck with a cot.

  Oh, well. At least I’m already used to it.

  I didn’t plan on nodding off. I purposely avoided my cot, dropping down on the floor as I got as comfortable as possible. Until my new wingmate was up, I couldn’t think of anything else to do. Considering the way Vale tiptoed as close as possibly to her cell, careful not to disturb as she slumbered, I figured it was a smooth move to stay quiet in case she was some kind of monster.

  All I could see earlier was her back, and the long mess of fiery red curls that covered her all the way to her hip while she slept on her side.

  When I get a good look at her now, I have to do a double-take.

  So, yeah. Not a monster.

  She’s… beautiful is too tame a word. And I’ve spent weeks surrounded by the fae, a mythical, ethereal race that is so gorgeous, it’s otherworldly. She takes it one step further. From her classically sculpted features to the waterfall of flame-colored curls, plus her milky white skin, she looks like a goddess come to life. Her boobs are big, her ass, too, but her waist is teeny-tiny, a perfect hourglass figure.

  And, more than anything, she exudes sex.

  “My name is Posey, human. Who are you?”

  “Hi. Um. I’m Elle.”

  She stretches, arching her back and showing off her tits. With the fairy lights hitting her just right, I can see her nipples, too; no bra for Posey. Her dress is so thin it’s almost sheer and, not for the first time, I’m glad that I’ve clung to my leather jacket. If that’s what passes for the female uniform in here, I’ll continue to wear my human clothes no matter how ripe they get.

  Dusk was the one who brought me the pile of white fabric right after he placed me in my cell. From the shape of it, it reminded me of an old-fashioned nightgown and I asked if it was mandatory. All the male prisoners wore white, too, but nothing like this.

  I’d been surprised when he looked me up and down—again—before shaking his head. Murmuring something about how the shadows suit me, Dusk told me to keep the female’s uniform, but that I didn’t have to wear it. I didn’t understand what he meant by shadows until I realized that my black jeans, black tank, and leather jacket were as dark as the Dark Fae’s hair. In Faerie, the Unseelie got their power from the night; the Seelie wilted in the shadows. Of course he liked my black clothes. It probably added to his attraction.

  I almost changed on the spot. Maybe if I wasn’t wearing my leather jacket, I would’ve. But I’ve had that jacket since high school and, well, it’s kind of like a security blanket for me.

  Plus, I didn’t feel comfortable stripping out of my clothes, either.

  Now I’m glad. When Dusk and Vale took me from my old cell, marching me halfway across the prison to my new one, there wasn’t time to reach for my hidden stash of fruit or the uniform I kept just in case. Then again, it’s even better that I clung to my human clothes. I couldn’t imagine passing countless jeering prisoners wearing something as see-through as that.

  She doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, I get the idea that she’s proud of her body and she is more than happy to show it off.

  Good for her. I had tits like that, I might feel better about letting other people see them.

  Her lips purse. Amusement lights up her stunning face and, for the first time, I notice that her eyes are white. The whole thing. There’s no pupil. No iris. Just pure white.

  She’s gorgeous, b
ut her eyes are kind of creepy.

  Great. I don’t want to stare at her strange eyes, but if I look down, I’m gawking at her chest. I settle on looking at her ear, offering a shaky grin as she studies me closely in return.

  “I didn’t know there was another female,” she announces. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that there aren’t any others.”

  I totally have. I’m still surprised that she exists in here, too.

  “Is that on purpose?”

  Posey shrugs. “Siúcra is the most infamous prison in all of Faerie, but it’s not the only one. Because of the way the magic feeds on us, only the worst of the worst get sent here. The ones who will never get out again.”

  That’s just like what Rys said to me. I knew he was telling the truth, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t another blow to hear it coming from someone else.

  “So… what are you in for?”

  I’m almost surprised that she asks me that. I thought, by now, everyone knew about the idiot human who refused a Seelie noble. Guess not, since she hadn’t even heard that I was thrown into prison more than a week ago.

  So I tell her. She coos softly in sympathy as I explain how I ended up in Faerie in the first place, nods like she knows what I’m talking about when I mention the auction block at the Faerie market, before finally snorting when I get to the part where Veron gave me my ultimatum: him or Siúcra.

  “Some males don’t understand the word no. Shame.” Posey waves her hand regally. “Such a trifling offense. You shouldn’t be in here.”

  She’s preaching to the choir.

  “What about you?” I ask. “What did you do?”

  Posey grins. Her teeth are gleaming white, perfectly straight—and they end in small points. “The opposite of you, dear human. I let the wrong man touch me.”

  “And they put you in prison for it? That’s messed up.”

  “I knew it might happen when I seduced the Fae Queen’s former consort. I got off easy. She added Salem to her garden as a frozen statue afterward, then grew bored and smashed it. I just ended up in Siúcra for the rest of my days.”