“ ‘Course it’s legal,” Sizzle argued. “But I doubt these shifters were doing it because they wanted to. Not the way they were brutally murdered to keep their mouths shut.” That had been consistent. Every one of these women were shifters, not one fae female.
Fae and shifters weren’t the best friends, but there was a mutual understanding between both our species. Did this mean that a race war could be on the horizon?
I hung my head low, staring at the lifeless body shredded beyond recognition. I rubbed my pant leg to get rid of the blood on my fingers. A whimper came from under the bed. No one else noticed, but my wolf did.
My body stiffened, now listening to a beating heart. The whole fucking point of coming into this room was to save someone. Anyone.
Locke continued to talk to the others, coming up with a plan to get out of here and see if we could find a control room for the cameras that hung in every corner of these fake scenes, in addition to the computer cameras.
I moved, my wolf pushing me to do something for once besides killing, to see where the noise came from. My boots stuck to the bloody floor, making a terrible sticking, squelching sound until I reached the bed.
Sizzle smacked Locke in the chest to shut his mouth as they watched me intently.
I rested my knee on the floor, pulling up the tarnished blanket. Staring back at me with two caramel-colored eyes was a human woman, her shaking body curled in the fetal position, gripping a pillow for dear life. She gasped at seeing my appearance.
Of course, she would find me frightening. I was a scary fucker.
Blood dripped down my skin, my ugly mug hovering right in front of her face. I knew I had to back away, but my damn wolf pushed for something else. My wolf pushed harder for it than for killing the fae fucker that now laid in hunks of meat. I reached out, but she flinched away.
For the first time in a long time, I talked to my wolf. The disconnection between us faded. I wanted to talk some sense into him.
“She’s scared. Can’t you see that?”A whimper, a fucking whimper, chimed in my head. I paused, taking control of my hand and backing away.
“There’s someone under there,” Locke hissed, his hand went to my shoulder. “Want me to take this?”
Did I want him to take this opportunity to coax this little human out? My wolf growled in protest. Shaking my head, I stayed in front of the caramel-eyed woman as my wolf purred in my chest.
Fucking shit.
What was wrong with me?
“Come,” I said.
The shuffling of footsteps around the room stopped. Locke gasped like a drama queen. Gazes bore into my back. I reached out my hand toward those beautiful, deep caramel eyes.
Her gaze lingered on my bloodied hand, the drying blood cracking around my knuckles. I went to pull away again, but her icy hand took my shaky one.
Chapter Two
Journey
Hereachedouthishand. It was still covered in blood.
The crimson, wet substance was drying and cracking on his hands while around his wrist it dripped onto the plywood floor. I watched one trail of crimson slowly curve around his wrist, making a plopping sound as hit the floor. Blinking harshly, I looked upward at the bearded man who’d dared to look under the bed.
It was funny. Usually monsters hide under the bed, but I spent most of my time under one as I grew up. I’d rather deal with those monsters instead of the ones that walked in the light.
I gulped, feeling the tension in the room. There were more of them now. Many pairs of feet could be seen from beneath the lace of the comforter. Most looked like steel-toed boots, black with chains hanging from their ankles. They clanged together, ringing in memories of the past. Which I should not in the slightest be worried about because I had a new nightmare coming.
There always was.
This beast of a man waiting for me saved my life. Whether for good intentions or not, I wasn’t sure. I knew that Aedar was going to kill me. I heard the screams of the other women down the hall. They’d been here for a lot longer. They never said a word to me or each other. It wasn’t allowed, the talking, the whispering. We stayed in our respective rooms but couldn’t even sleep on the beds.
The beds were for “show” to make it look like we lived in some glamourous bedroom on our own somewhere. That we were doing this willingly of our own accord to make money and make the men or women on the other side happy.
It made me sick.
Luckily, I had only been here a few months. The other girls obviously were here much longer because their rigid beauty routines were down to the letter.
