my head in Nightmare Pen? That’s just crazy. And someone on the inside…that can only be one person. Rook.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I say before I start to turn around.
“Sinclair.”
I stop, barely suppressing a sigh. I knew it couldn’t be that easy. Nothing is free in here. Least of all information.
Zen steps forward to be in front of me once again. Her dark eyes hold mine, her lotus flower tattoo glimmering slightly in the sunlight. “The next time someone tries to break you out, we can help each other.”
She holds my gaze meaningfully, and I nod. “Deal.”
I’m not sure if she wants out or if this is an excellent enterprise opportunity, but as long as I get to stay in here, I don’t care.
With a nod, she turns and walks away, and I let out a breath. Feeling my tail flick inside my pocket, I frown as my eyes immediately shift over and up, where I see Rook standing in the guard tower, looking down at me from the window.
I clench my teeth, digging my hands into my pockets so that I can grip my rebellious tail and hold it still.
Even if it is a coincidence that another cockatrice works here, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard about Alpha Bowen’s price to get me back. And what better person is there to break out an inmate than a well-trusted guard?
I turn and stalk away, my footsteps angry as I kick up dirt behind me.
I lift my chin with determination. So that colorful hot fucker is going to try to make money by breaking me out? He can fucking try.
5
The lock release on the metal door of my cell buzzes like a hive of pissed off bees. I jerk awake and stare at the door as an over-muscled guard who happens to be on my not a fan of me list leans in. He glares at me, and I glare right back. He just interrupted an epic dream I was having where I rode the face of a mystery man while his tail did all kinds of delicious things with my ass.
I close my eyes, ignoring the expectant look on the guard’s face, and try to invite the dream to come back and ravish me the way a girl deserves to be dream-ravished. Something slams against the metal bed frame that’s attached to the stone wall, and I cover my ears from the ringing noise it creates.
What the hell?
I sit up quickly and eye the asshole guard with the smug look on his face as he reholsters his baton.
Dick.
“You have visitors waiting for you. Hurry up before we send them away,” he snaps, his sand-brown eyes alight with the joy that threats and mistreatment must give him.
Wait. Visitors?
I wrack my brain for all of two seconds before I deduce exactly who might be waiting to speak to me. It’s not like the list is that long.
“Yeah, go ahead and send them away,” I tell him, not at all interested in speaking with anyone who isn’t currently inside this prison.
The torturous light in the guard’s eyes dims slightly and then lights back up like someone just poured gasoline on this fucker’s messed up thoughts.
“On your feet, inmate,” he orders, and I stare at him for beat.
Is he serious? First he threatens to send my visitors away, and now he’s going to force me to talk to them just to fuck with me?
He rests his hand on the baton that’s once again hanging from the utility belt circling his waist, the warning clear. I roll my eyes and stand up, pushing my feet into my prison-issued Crocs. I was up late last night chatting away to my new troll bestie, Joe, in the toilet and changing the black slip-on shoes into a tie-dye rainbow of color. I can’t help but smile with pride as I stare down at my colorful feet. It’s almost enough happiness to help me get through what I know is about to happen.
Almost.
I follow Sandbag—the loving nickname I just gave this sandy-eyed douchebag of a guard—out of my cell. I pass Sophie the wolf and the water fae, and I give them a tough looking chin jerk in greeting. I giggle at the thought of looking like a hard-ass, and Sandbag shoots me a glare over his shoulder.
Jeez. Someone needs to miss a dose of steroids or accept that the stuff is just going to make his shrinky dink even smaller, and then cheer the fuck up, because he