Imprisoned

  Ari shivered and tried to push the thought away as they moved from one room into another, this one filled with stacks of prison uniforms and rubber slippers. She could still feel the big Kindred’s hands on her…in her. And she still didn’t understand why he had done what he did.

  Was he just being kind and trying to spare her the pain of having a Horvath digit shoved roughly up her back channel? Or was he trying to claim her in some way, as Tapper had been doing when he added her name to his “list?”

  Ari considered this second possibility much more likely. Why else would the big Kindred have been so eager to get her into the infirmary alone? Had he been planning to use the cold, slimy stuff she could still feel running down her inner thighs as lubricant to ease another part of himself inside her? Was there anyone here she could trust besides Jak, when she found him? Anyone who wouldn’t want to rape her?

  And what would she do if the big Kindred did try something? The Horvath guard was right behind them but Ari got the distinct impression he wouldn’t give a damn if she got assaulted right in front of his eyes. He was only watching them to make sure they weren’t plotting—whatever that meant. The Kindred was almost seven feet tall and outweighed her by at least a hundred and fifty pounds, all of it pure muscle—plus he had poison fangs. If he wanted to do something to her, Ari doubted she could defend herself. All her years of Ton-kwa training wouldn’t help her if she was poisoned. He—

  “Here—these look about your size. Put them on.”

  Looking up, she saw that the big Kindred was holding out an orange and blue striped prison uniform and a small pair of rubber slippers.

  “Thank you,” Ari said, clutching the bundle to her chest, and was appalled at how weak and girly her voice sounded. She needed to butch up quickly or she was going to be dead meat in here. “I mean, thanks a lot,” she said, making an effort to deepen her voice and look the big Kindred directly in the eyes.

  But she shouldn’t have done that because the moment she looked, she was lost. His eyes were jewel-toned—the most mesmerizing shade of clear, bluish-green that she’d ever seen. They reminded her of clear tropical waters…of gem stones…of…

  Of someone I’ve seen before. But who? Where? My dreams?

  The big Kindred was staring just as intently at her, a worried frown on his face.

  “Are you well, little one?” he rumbled softly.

  “I…” Suddenly Ari remembered the feeling of his big warm hand on her bare back while the other probed inside her and she had to look away. “I’m fine,” she whispered in a choked voice.

  “No plotting!” the Horvath guard hissed at them. “Get drezzed.”

  Quickly, Ari scrambled into the blue and orange striped jumpsuit. It was clearly the smallest one available but it still hung on her petite frame. She didn’t care—she was grateful to be covered at all. Being naked in front of so many strangers—even wearing her solid-holo body disguise—had been humiliating and extremely uncomfortable.

  “Now what?” she made herself ask as she slipped the too-big plastic slippers on her feet where they flapped at her heels.

  “Now you go into a holding area until all the rest of the new prisoners are processed,” Medic said. “After that, Last Meal—or ‘supper’ as they call it here. After that, you’ll get your permanent cell assignment and you sleep.”

  “But…” Ari felt panic building up inside her and fought to keep it down. “But what about the exercise yard? When…when do I get to go there?”

  “Already missing the zzky?” the Horvath guard asked. He chortled guttural laughter. “Get uzed to it.”

  “We get recreation hour every day after Mid Meal as long as there’s not a lockdown going on,” the big Kindred told her.

  “So…I can’t go out until tomorrow?” Ari tried to keep the dread out of her voice and couldn’t. So much could happen between now and the exercise period the next day. Tapper could catch her or she could get hurt in whatever cell she was assigned to or any of a hundred other awful, lethal, disgusting things that sprang readily to mind.

  The big Kindred shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling under the green and blue striped uniform.

  “Sorry. That’s the way it is.”

  “But…will I…do I get my own cell at least?” Ari was aware that she sounded weak and frightened but just at that moment she couldn’t help it—she felt weak and frightened.

  “Only trusteezz have their own zellz,” the Horvath guard hissed. “Now come—to the holding area.”

  He shoved Ari hard between the shoulder blades with the butt of his pain-prod and she stumbled and nearly fell. Only the big Kindred’s hand under her arm kept her from face-planting on the scuffed metal floor.

  “Watch it,” the Kindred growled at the guard, his fangs plainly visible. “Can’t you see how small this little one is?”

  Ari shook off the big male’s hand, feeling vulnerable and not liking it.

  “I’m fine.” She lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself.”

  He didn’t answer, just put himself between her and the guard as the three of them proceeded into the next room which was divided up into several large, clear plasti-glass boxes with air holes cut into them near the top.

  The holding areas were lined with metal benches and had a dull silver commode in the corner. They were big enough to hold ten or twelve inmates in relative comfort—or eighteen to twenty if they were really packed in. Most were already filled past capacity with newly minted prisoners, all wearing the same blue and orange striped jumpsuits Ari had on herself. None of them looked happy, probably because of the way they were jammed into the overflowing holding areas.

  There was shouting coming from almost all of them and several large males were fighting in the closest one, which was apparently where they were headed. There were smears of blood on the clear walls of the holding area and Ari saw something sticking out of one of the ventilation holes near the top.

  When they got closer, she saw it was a severed finger.

  Goddess of Mercy.

  “Here.” The Horvath guard motioned for her. “In here until zzupper time.”

  “He won’t be alive come supper time if you put him in there.” The big Kindred’s deep voice was an angry growl.

  The Horvath shrugged. “Not my problem. Mukluk zzaid to put him in a holding area.”

  “Put him in a cage,” Medic said.

  “A what?” Ari looked up at him but he didn’t even spare her a glance. His brilliant turquoise eyes were locked with the Horvath’s in what appeared to be a silent battle of wills.

  Finally, the guard shrugged.

  “Fine. A cage it izz.”

  He shoved Ari again but this time she was prepared for the brutal action and leaped nimbly forward almost before the butt of his weapon could touch her.

  “Where are we going? Where are you taking me?” she asked, looking up at both the guard and the Kindred.

  Neither one answered her. She was marched to the back of the big room where a lot of identical black metal structures made of heavy-duty chain-link stood. There were fifteen of them, all in a row, all about six feet tall and three feet wide like coffins stood up on either ends.

  Ari looked at the closest one—it really was a cage.

  “In here,” the Horvath hissed, unlocking the mechanism on the front with a wave of his scaly hand.

  Claustrophobia clawed at Ari’s throat. For a moment she felt almost faint.

  “But I can’t…I don’t need to be in there,” she protested, feeling sick. “Please, I—”

  “Shut up,” Medic said harshly, glaring down at her. “Get in—it’s the safest place for a little one like you.”

  “I’m a grown wo—uh, man,” Ari protested, so upset she almost forgot her disguise. She hated small spaces. She’d gotten trapped in a tiny closet once playing hide and find with Jak when they were kids and it had been hours before anyone found her. She couldn’t go in the tiny, cramped metal box—she just couldn’t.


  “Get in or should I put you in?” the big Kindred demanded, showing her his fangs.

  At the sight of those four sharp points—he had a double set on either side where a normal humanoid’s canine teeth would be—Ari shrank back. She didn’t need to be poisoned before she could get to Jak. Still, she couldn’t help appealing to him one more time.

  “Honestly, I can take care of myself. I…I’m claustrophobic,” she confessed in a low voice.

  “I’m sorry about that.” His tone softened a little but there was still firm conviction in his eyes. “But better claustrophobic than dead, little one. Now get in the cage or I’ll put you in myself.”

  Ari saw that nothing she did or said would change his mind or make any difference. She could either get into the cage quietly or make a scene and that would only make her look girly and weak, which she didn’t need.

  Taking a deep breath, she did her best to swallow her fear.

  At least there are holes in it—it’s made of chain link, she told herself. It’s not like the closet—I’ll be able to see out. It’ll be okay. It’s not forever. Just until supper time.

  “Go on,” the big Kindred rumbled. “Hurry up—we have other new prisoners to see to.” He cast a glance at the Horvath who was idly twirling his pain-prod. Clearly he was afraid the lizard-guard would get tired of this drama and put Ari into one of the crowded, clear plasti-glass holding areas after all.

  And if he did that, I might not be fresh meat anymore by the time I got out, she thought bitterly. It was becoming clearer and clearer to her that the big Kindred just wanted to keep her intact for his own private use later—just like Tapper. But there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it. Not now, anyway.

  “All right, fine.” She put up her hands, backing into the black cage. When the door banged shut, she had to bite back a cry as panic wrapped a clammy hand around her throat and squeezed tight.

  “There. Back to cavity zzearch,” the Horvath guard announced as he locked the cage door. But the big Kindred lingered, looking down through the black chain link at Ari. There was an unreadable look in his jewel-toned eyes. It might have been pity or possessiveness—Ari couldn’t tell but either way she didn’t like it.

  “You’ll be all right, little one. I’ll come back later to check on you,” he rumbled.

  “Don’t bother.” Ari lifted her chin, glaring up at him. “I told you, I’m fine.”

  His eyes went hard.

  “Don’t fool yourself. Nobody in BleakHall is ‘fine.’ Everyone here is just marking time until they die and if you’re not damn careful that’ll happen sooner rather than later.”

  Then he turned, and Ari watched the angry set of his broad shoulders as he walked swiftly away.

  Five

  Damn it, why did he feel so protective of the boy?

  Lathe wished he knew…wished he could fight it somehow. But the emotion rose up in him like a wave when he was near the new prisoner—so compelling and overpowering he couldn’t control it.

  Even now the thought of the boy trapped in the cage, quietly fighting his panic and claustrophobia, tore at his heart deeply. Lathe had to restrain himself because all he wanted to do was go back and open the cage and take the new prisoner someplace safe where none of the animals in this hell hole could hurt him.

  Stop it, he told himself fiercely. This feeling isn’t logical. You don’t know this boy—you’ve never even seen him before.

  But that didn’t feel true or right. Somehow he felt that he knew the boy. Those eyes—those huge, dark eyes, vulnerable even when the lad was trying to be tough—seemed burned into Lathe’s brain somehow. He felt as though he had seen them before—not just once but many times.

  But that’s ridiculous. How could you have seen him? You don’t know him—you don’t even know his name! he argued with himself.

  Well, that last part was easily fixed. Going back to the infirmary and trying to block out the cries of the poor bastard Mukluk was currently probing, Lathe shut the door firmly behind him. He picked up the battered tablet he’d been assigned when he’d become a trustee—about a day after coming here since BleakHall needed medics—and did a quick search.

  There was surprisingly little information about the boy. Most of the prisoners brought in had rap sheets as long as his arm but there was almost nothing besides the first name, (Ari,) his age (24 cycles, which Lathe found hard to believe since the lad didn’t have even the hint of a beard yet) and the serial number which someone had noted was an accidental duplicate. No reason was given for Ari’s incarceration, no planet of origin, no family or gang affiliations—nothing. So what was he doing here? What had he done that warranted such a severe punishment as life in BleakHall?

  Lathe didn’t know but he wanted to. Rather than quenching his thirst for knowledge, the tablet search had done nothing but fan the flames of his curiosity. He found he wanted to know all about the boy—where was he from? What were his likes and dislikes? Why was he here?

  Abruptly he stopped his speculation.

  Wait—why would I need to know so much about a fellow prisoner? What’s wrong with me? I’ve never reacted this way to a new inmate before. What is this strange compulsion I feel to protect him and know all about him?

  Lathe had no answers but he didn’t like it—didn’t like feeling manipulated this way by his own feelings. He was a doctor and a scientist—he lived by logic, not emotion.

  I have to fight it, he told himself. I’m almost out of here. Growing some kind of strange attachment to a new prisoner is nothing but a liability. I have to get over this right now. Just get back to work and put him from my mind.

  With that idea firmly in place, he began straightening the infirmary’s medical supplies once more…only to find himself staring at the page on the tablet with the boy’s information again.

  Ari, he thought, tracing the letters with his eyes. Why do I feel like I’ve seen you before? And how can I make myself forget you?

  Six

  “Zzupper now,” remarked the Horvath guard who came to unlock Ari’s cage, two hours and several eternities after she had been locked in.

  She was leaning against the front door of the cage, so eager to get out that she stumbled and fell to her knees when it finally swung open and she was granted her very nominal freedom.

  “Here, get up. Did you hurt yourself?” The deep voice was familiar—as was the hand under her arm, hauling her up.

  It was the Kindred again—Medic. He was looking at her with an unreadable expression in those gorgeous eyes of his.

  A look like he wants to own me, Ari thought. Only she didn’t intend to be owned by anyone.

  She had made up her mind while she was stuck in the cage, fighting panic and claustrophobia, that she was not going to let anyone stop her from what she had come to do. Somehow she would survive this first (and hopefully last) night in BleakHall and then tomorrow, the minute she saw Jak, she would grab him, activate the transport bubble, and float out of here, as free as a bird.

  With that plan in mind, she didn’t intend to let anyone—even a seven-foot tall Kindred with poison fangs—stand in her way.

  “Let me go.” She yanked away from him—or tried to anyway. But she couldn’t break his grip on her wrist which was gentle but extremely firm.

  “Listen to me, Ari,” he said urgently. “BleakHall isn’t like other prisons—every sentence here is a life sentence and the only way out is death. The guards aren’t here to protect you or keep the prisoners from fighting each other—their only concern is to keep us contained. Which means they don’t give a damn if you get killed on your first day.”

  “And you do?” Ari spat. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. And how do you know my name?”

  “I looked it up.” He spoke unwillingly, as though reluctant to admit that he’d researched her. Well, he wouldn’t have found much—only the few pieces of information she’d given to Wheezer before processing. It wasn’t like she actually had any k
ind of a criminal past.

  “Why would you look me up?” Ari demanded. “You’re just like that disgusting Tapper, aren’t you? Well, I’m not interested!”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “You’ve already met Tapper? What happened? Did he hurt you?”

  “None of your business. Let me go!” She tugged at her wrist again and this time he reluctantly released her.

  As she pushed into the crowd of prisoners heading through the vast double doors of the holding area into what presumably was the dining room, she heard the big Kindred shout one last thing.

  “Sit at table thirteen, Ari! Be sure you sit at table thirteen.”

  “Yeah, right,” Ari muttered to herself. “Like I’ll sit at your table just because you tell me to. I don’t think so.”

  She joined the rush and dove through the double doors, leaving him behind.

  Lathe watched the boy go with a deep sense of disquiet. Every instinct he had said that he needed to follow Ari and make certain he was all right. The Mess Hall could be a difficult and dangerous place to navigate, especially for a new prisoner.

  But he had duties that had to be finished before he could eat his own Last Meal and if he didn’t finish them, he could be punished with confinement to his cell. If he had to spend a day on lockdown, he wouldn’t be able to look out for the boy at all tomorrow.

  Reluctantly, he turned back towards the infirmary. He just prayed to the Goddess that Ari listened to him and sat at the correct table.

  Otherwise he was going to be in a lot of trouble.

  Seven

  The dining room—what Ari heard some inmates calling the Mess Hall—was already half filled with prisoners when the bunch of new inmates from the holding area arrived. She surveyed the scene in front of her, careful to stay to the far edge of the seething group of males who were heading for the cafeteria style line as though they hadn’t eaten in cycles.