Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,139
me, same as this orphaned vampire needed a family, a clan, a coven.
But this orphaned vampire and my mate had issues of their own to settle at some point, tension still simmering between them since Rafe had lost his fangs. Hopefully they would have the chance to make it right.
The cellblock door opened and closed twice more in the hour that followed, but only to let in Faustus and Helen, both of whom had been in the cafeteria with me. It wasn’t in their nature to riot, nor to follow. Fiercely independent, bird shifters seldom grouped together unless their inner birds traveled in flocks. They had gravitated to me tonight, however, sensing my alpha status without ever acknowledging it, hovering nearby in the cafeteria, shuffling closer as more inmates were thrust into the fold. Now, they beelined for their cells, disappearing inside same as Deimos and Constance. Rafe and I continued to loiter in the common area, waiting impatiently for the return of our mate, for the reappearance of our impulsive fae.
And when Fintan finally did make an appearance, he was the first of us to look like shit.
Bloodied nose in a splint, eyes black and bruised. As soon as the cuffs left him, he was off in a fury, moving faster than I’d ever seen him, and headed straight for us, his speed a rival for any vampire, murder glinting in his bright green gaze.
“You two all right?” the fae demanded, and the shock on Rafe’s face echoed my own. Straight to the point, direct—no dillydallying around. How very unlike Fintan. Strange to not realize how much a person had grown until it clocked you upside the head.
“Fine,” I said, motioning halfheartedly to Rafe’s shoulder—because that about covered the extent of our injuries. “You?”
Fintan pointed to his nose, scowling. “Did this to myself, apparently… You know, after those fucks gassed us. Woke up in the infirmary to some little chit bandaging me up when she could have just magicked the bone or whatever back to normal, but never mind. Otherwise, yeah, not a hair out of place.”
And there he was—the fae who never shut the fuck up.
Still waiting on our witch, we remained in the common area for another hour. Avery and Blake never made an appearance either, but Deimos didn’t come looking for his cronies. In fact, no one left their cells, the block quiet, somber, lacking the usual chatter and laughter from the demon’s gang, lacking our hushed conversations at one of the side tables. No cards. No games. No books.
No Katja.
My heart soared when the locks finally did clink open again, but it was only Cooper and two other guards I didn’t recognize. Williams had taken a shot to the shoulder and leg courtesy of my mate, who was beyond sexy when she handled a gun; I’d wanted to slam her into the wall and fuck her raw at the sight of her brandishing a weapon, but then everything had gone to hell so fast it made my head spin.
“Lights-out, inmates,” Cooper barked, directing us three toward our cells with a flourish of his wand. “We’re on lockdown until tomorrow evening while we fix this fucking mess.”
None of us moved. We stood there, arms crossed, a united front of three on three—at a huge disadvantage, collars firmly intact, but willing to go down swinging.
“What about Katja?” Rafe hissed, glancing at Fintan and me on either side of him. “Where—”
“Now, inmates,” Cooper bellowed. Sparks snapped and fizzled from the end of his wand, and he just missed Fintan’s ear with a jet of neon blue—on purpose, hopefully, because fuck me no one’s aim could be that bad at this distance. The fae didn’t even flinch, but his lip curled.
“She gave in,” he said suddenly, just as we three disbanded. Rafe and I stilled, his words panging between us, and Fintan’s eyes sparked with bloodlust once more. “She gave in to Guthrie… It’s why no one’s beaten us or tossed us in solitary. Why this fuck didn’t hit me.”
“I just figured he was a terrible shot,” Rafe mused, glowering at the trio of guards watching us, their wands aimed at our chests.
“He’s right,” I croaked. So painfully right—that explained everything. Her continued absence. Our unusual welfare. Why Deimos and the others had taken a beating and we were standing here smelling like roses.
She couldn’t distance herself from us in here.
But she could do it outside of Xargi.
In Guthrie’s clutches, just like that fucking bastard wanted.