Blindly Indicted

by Katie May

  He really needs to hurry the story along. I would like to kill him and then find Angel in a timely manner. Sometimes dragons can be so selfish.

  “They opened up my cell door and said ‘you’re going somewhere else. We don’t need you anymore.’ I promised Nina I would get her out. I fucking promised.” His voice breaks, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Fucking dramatic. “When I woke up next, I was here. And she was there.”

  “Wow,” I drawl at last, clapping my hands together slowly. The gesture is impeded by the dagger still tightly gripped between my fingers. “What a sad and touching story.”

  “You’ve never loved anyone,” Blade bites out scathingly. “You wouldn’t even begin to comprehend what it’s like to have her ripped away from you.”

  “You’re right.” I shrug cheerfully. “Love makes you weak. But it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t answer one very important question: what is she?”

  Blade’s eyes shoot fire at me even as his shoulders slump. “I don’t know,” he answers at last, and I vehemently curse. Dammit. This time, I’m positive he’s telling the truth. There’s no way he can lie that good.

  “But I do know,” Blade continues, recapturing everyone’s attention, “that she’s my fated mate.”

  Ohhh. Things just got interesting.

  Bronson snarls, the sound more monster than human, and lunges forward, tackling Blade to the ground.

  Smirking, I move back to lean against the wall and clean the inside of my nail out with my dagger. “Tsk, tsk, boys. Haven’t you heard? Sharing is caring.”

  Inside, however, I’m fuming. Not at the mate thing—I don’t give two fucks about that—but about what she endured. Our backgrounds aren’t all that dissimilar, but while I came out sullied and tainted, she still shines with an inner light.

  It’s a light I need to live. A light that’s vital to my very soul, my genetic makeup.

  Now that I have her, no one is taking her from me.

  I’ll kill everyone here if I have to. And then, once I’m done with that, I’ll kill everyone at that blasted Compound. I’ll live in the darkness so my Angel is able to live in the light.

  Chapter 17

  Nina

  I know something is going to happen before it does.

  It’s not a vivid image or even a voice inside my head. It’s a feeling—spiders crawling up my spine and my heart a brick inside my chest, cracking my ribs.

  The familiar tendrils of panic wrap around both my wrists. I may no longer be wearing handcuffs, but it feels as if I’m weighed down by iron manacles. My breathing is uneven as I’m forced down the ever-changing hallways of the Labyrinth, two guards on either side of me and one at my back.

  I don’t know why my emotions are so rampant and chaotic. I’m heading back to Kai and the others, right? I should be calm.

  Instead, my heart is tap-dancing with fear and adrenaline. It’s like I’m standing on broken glass just waiting for one shard to break through skin and draw blood. The tiny hairs on my arms stand at attention while tremors rush through me.

  Something is going to happen. Something big.

  “Stop,” the guard behind me announces suddenly, and like obedient puppies, the two guards on either side of me slow their pace. I chance slipping inside one of their heads—the man on my right—to see what the commotion is about.

  The guard behind me is leering, a decidedly predatory expression marring his ugly face. And no, he wouldn’t normally be considered ugly. In any other circumstance, any other time, I might even call him handsome.

  But there’s a darkness in his eyes that surpasses even Damien’s. I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe it’s different because the darkness is directed at me, not someone else. When evil acts are inflicted on evil people, you’re able to look at it differently. It’s an entirely different sensation, an unnerving one, to be the sole focus of it.

  With tousled blond hair, gemstone green eyes, and a tapered waist, he rivals even the twins in the good looks department. A slow, beguiling smile turns up his lips as he takes a step closer, so close I can feel his rancid breath against my face.

  “I can take it from here,” he says to the two guards on either side of me. They hesitate, no doubt recognizing the evil he exudes in tangible waves for what it is, but, like all cowards, they hurry away.

  It’s like I told Kai earlier: those that are choosing to remain ignorant of the horrors that plague this world are infinitely more dangerous than the ones who actively seek to inflict harm. They see the evil for what it is, yet still choose to look in the other direction. There’s only so many times they can bury their heads in the sand, though, before the past catches up and suffocates them.

  I’m trembling. God, I’m trembling so badly. I know I need to fight, scream, do something, but I can’t bring my body to move. It’s just not physically possible.

  I pull out of the retreating guard’s head and embrace the darkness. It cloaks my vision with the finality of a starless night. Only, in this case, I’m not sure there’s going to be a morning. How can there be? How many times can I break and shatter until there’s not enough left of me to piece back together?

  I’m not oblivious to the guard’s intentions. I have dealt with my fair share of evil men taking what they want without thinking of the consequences. They see me as a body—their body—to use and discard as they please. Even now, I’m nothing but a meat suit.

  His hand clamps around my upper arm, and my trembling increases. Tears trail down my cheeks.

  No. No. No. No.

  It’s all I can think—that one word muttered incoherently in my brain.

  “Be a good bitch and spread your legs for me,” he hisses.

  I’m sobbing now. There are a thousand dangers I have to fight off, but the worst one is the demon inside my head. It conjures up images of all the times I had fought before and how futile those efforts were.

  What’s the point?

  Maybe, if I cooperate, I’ll at least maintain some dignity.

  I brace myself. Whatever this man does, I’ll get past it. I have to.

  A fierce, thunderous roar echoes from directly behind me. I freeze, muscles locking, as the hand on my arm drops abruptly.

  “What the hell?” the guard asks, voice high with shock and fear.

  A body presses against my side before barreling past me. The guard begins to scream, high-pitched and keening, as sounds of flesh being torn apart echoes all around me. The growling increases in intensity as the screaming drifts off. I hear a deafening crack of bone before silence greets me.

  My heart is hammering a mile a minute, playing hopscotch, and I back up until I’m touching the cold stone wall.

  Tears and snot drip down my face, but I don’t raise a hand to wipe them away. Terror continues to thunder through me.

  I’m terrified. Absolutely terrified.

  But not of the monster who had saved me, but of what might’ve happened if he hadn’t.

  My legs give out, and I collapse onto the floor, still whimpering.

  “I’ll take care of you, mi amor,” a soft voice says as arms lift me up. Everything about this man is unfamiliar, but I can’t seem to stop myself from leaning further against him, soaking up his warmth. He moves briskly through the twining passageways until I’m placed on a bed. One glance in the stranger’s mind confirms that this is the same one Mr. Scruffles led me to that first night.

  Is he the owner?

  I curl into a ball and begin to cry harder. My body isn’t the only thing that hurts now. What is it with men who believe they have the right to take liberties with females? Is this the prototype for the rest of my life?

  A soft meow sounds from directly below me, and a moment later, Mr. Scruffles jumps onto the bed and curls himself beneath my chin. His purring comforts me, but even his presence isn’t enough to stop the onslaught of tears.

  What happened with the guard only solidified what I have always suspected: I’m weak. A liability.

&n
bsp; No wonder Kai didn’t come back for me. I wouldn’t want to come back for myself.

  Sometime later, I find myself unable to conjure another tear. My face feels red and blotchy, and my hair sticks to the sides of my face. Throughout my entire meltdown, Mr. Scruffles remained on my chest, a calm and soothing presence. He hasn’t quite eradicated all the holes, but he has helped fill them in.

  “Thank you for staying with me,” I whisper, kissing his furry head. His scratchy tongue licks my cheek once before he settles back down, his head beneath my chin.

  I know I need to get up, find the guys, but my body feels disgusting. Maybe it’s the phantom touch of the guard’s hand on me or maybe it’s the dirt and grime growing a colony on my body. Either way, I don’t think I can last much longer.

  “Is there a shower here, little man?” I ask, and the cat jumps to his feet immediately.

  Maybe I was right in my initial assessment. The cat seems too intelligent to be merely an animal.

  I slip into his head as he leads me down one hallway, pauses, and then retraces his steps. After a few tries, he stumbles in front of a coed bathroom, purring in satisfaction.

  The shower beckons to me, but I hesitate. What if someone comes across me when I’m naked and bathing? Fear strikes me like a lightning bolt to the heart as I think about how vulnerable I will be.

  Mr. Scruffles, as if sensing my internal dilemma, leads me into the bathroom and down the empty hall of stalls and open showers. He pauses at one in the far corner—the only one with a privacy curtain. At his nudging, I step inside and close the curtain.

  I’m still seeing through his eyes, so I’m able to watch his view of the world shift suddenly. Before, he had been close to the ground, but to my horror and macabre fascination, he begins to grow and grow until it seems like he’s the height of a tall man.

  Did he just shift into his monster form?

  Like a sentry at battle, Mr. Scruffles steps in front of the entrance to the bathing house and guards the door.

  It shouldn’t comfort me as much as it does.

  Quickly, I strip out of my dirty white dress and fumble with the buttons to start the shower. Ice cold water greets me initially, and I yelp, stepping out from under the spray. After a few more tries, I’m able to warm the water somewhat. My searching hand stumbles across a bottle, and I inhale its floral scent deeply. With only a little trepidation, I squeeze some of the liquid onto my palm and lather it into my hair. Anything is better than the dirt coating my waves now.

  I shower quickly, rubbing the undefinable substance into my skin.

  Please, please be soap. Please be soap.

  Mr. Scruffles would’ve warned me if it was anything else, right?

  After I finish my shower, I search the ground for my dirty dress. The last thing I want to do is redress in that disgusting garment, but I have no other option.

  Instead of the scratchy material, my hand finds something soft and fluffy.

  A towel, neatly folded just under the curtain as if someone had pushed it through. I relish in the towel’s softness—softer than any blanket I’ve used before—and dry myself quickly.

  Bending down once more, my searching fingers come across three objects that are most definitely not mine.

  A clean bra, underpants, and a dress.

  I pick up the underwear, and I can tell they’re clean because they don’t stink like mud and sweat, but I can also tell they’re different from my old pair because of the silky fabric. I’ve never had something this comfortable.

  Is this some other woman’s undergarments?

  My curious hand stumbles across what feels like a tag.

  How did brand new clothing get here?

  I know I shouldn’t trust such a lavish gift, but it’s either wear that or exit the stall naked. Deciding quickly, I dress in the bra, underwear, and dress. The dress itself feels like silk against my skin. Heck, for all I know, it is silk. It conforms to my breasts perfectly before swooping outwards around my waist. It’s as if it was made for me. Even the bra and underwear are my exact size.

  You know what? I’m not even going to worry about it.

  Feeling more human than I have in the last few days, maybe the last month, I step out of the shower, using the towel to catch the remnants of water in my black hair.

  Utilizing my powers, I slip into Mr. Scruffles’s head to see him still standing guard at the door. It looks as if he hadn’t budged an inch since my shower began.

  Only this time, he isn’t alone.

  Five familiar figures stand in front of my cat, weapons drawn and faces taut.

  “Move out of the way,” Kai hisses in an unrecognizable voice. “Before I kill you.”

  Chapter 18

  Nina

  I press myself flush against the wall, heart hammering against my ribcage.

  “Where is she?” Kai’s voice is more beast than human, more monster than man. Through Mr. Scruffles’s eyes, I see just how intimidating and terrifying Kai can appear to a stranger. It’s not just his bulk and height, though that certainly helps, but the power he exudes. He has a cold, dark presence that sends goosebumps racing up and down my spine.

  And he’s a dragon. A mother freaking dragon.

  I still can’t wrap my head around it. My best friend, the man who is an extension of me, is a mythical creature plucked straight out of a fairytale book. Suddenly, the stories he told me back at the Compound take on a whole new meaning.

  The princess fell in love with the fire breathing dragon shifter. She knew he would always protect and love her.

  Shivering, I take another step backward and wrap my arms around my stomach. It doesn’t quite hold all of the pieces together, but it’s a start.

  Mr. Scruffles cants his head to the side, my vision distorting with the minimal movement, before he takes a step closer to the group of intimidating men gathered in front of him. Damien is suddenly in front of the beast, seeming to materialize out of the shadows, with a dagger in hand.

  “I’m going to enjoy gutting you,” he breathes with a malicious smirk on his face.

  My eyes—well, Mr. Scruffles’s eyes—track all the men intently, cataloging their movements.

  Cain and Abel are standing just behind Kai, whispering to each other. Cain, as always, looks annoyed, and Abel is anxiously chewing on his lower lip. Bronson is in his wolf form, pacing in the shadows. His lips are pulled back from his teeth as deafening, ferocious snarls escape him.

  Damien ventures a step closer, Kai shadowing him, and Mr. Scruffles instinctively takes one back. I can see how this will play out in my head. The cat is vastly outnumbered, but I know he is a formidable foe. I can’t quite eradicate the memories assaulting me.

  The ferocious snarls overshadow the desperate screams of the dying guard.

  Innards splayed on the cafeteria floor.

  Blood coating the walls.

  This will be a bloodbath on both sides, but I have no doubt Mr. Scruffles will bear the worst of it.

  “Don’t hurt him!” I scream, running around Mr. Scruffles to plant myself in between them. Through the cat’s—monster’s—eyes, I can see Kai and Damien both gape at me. I wish to take back my plea, but there is no way I can scoop the words out of the air and put them back in my mouth. In a calmer voice, I repeat, “Please, don’t hurt him.”

  “Nina,” Kai says urgently, his features softening. Before, scales had been covering both his cheeks and muscular arms, but to my amazement, they begin to recede. His reptilian eyes gradually return to their normal brown hue, and his sharp teeth retreat into his mouth. “Nina, take a careful step closer.”

  “What? Why?” My head is spinning rapidly as I attempt to understand the urgency of the situation. Walking backward toward the cat, I add, “He won’t hurt me. He’s my cat. He’s Mr. Scruffles.”

  “Nina, come here. Now.”

  Pulling myself out of Mr. Scruffles’s mind, I implant myself immediately into Kai’s.

  I can see myself, pale and tremb
ling with freshly washed hair. A sea-green dress shimmers in the artificial lighting like waves catching light.

  Over my shoulder, I see Mr. Scruffles for the first time.

  He’s...a tiger.

  An honest-to-God tiger.

  He’s nearly twice the size of me with sleek orange fur, black stripes, and a white-whiskered face. His lips are pulled back from his teeth revealing razor-sharp canines.

  Oh. My. God.

  Kai takes a step closer, pushing Damien aside, until his entire vision is consumed by me. This close, I can see the freckles dotting my cheeks and nose, the tendrils of blue in my midnight dark hair, and the scar curving down my neck from a torture session in the Compound.

  “The lady is terrified,” Abel points out, and Kai whips his head around to face him, thank god. I love Kai, I do, but there’s only so much of his undivided attention I can take until it feels like my skin is itching. With Kai, I know he’s not just seeing a pretty face.

  He’s seeing me.

  Every scar. Every broken, twisted part of me. The darkness buried behind layers of light.

  Darkness that he’s partially responsible for.

  Dismissing those macabre, melancholic thoughts, I focus once more on the twins.

  The blond-haired trickster demon stands next to his brother, gaze on me. “Shall I serenade her? Calm her down?”

  “Please don’t,” Cain deadpans.

  Damien, from somewhere behind Kai, adds, “I’ll cut out your tongue and shove it up your asshole.”

  Ignoring both of them, Abel clears his throat and takes a step closer—either oblivious or choosing to ignore the fact that each step takes him even closer to the enraged, pacing tiger. I know firsthand how powerful and deadly that cat can be.