Supernatural Inmate (Supernatural Captivity #1) - Avery Song Page 0,40

if they don't, meh. They'll get used to it in due time."

Now I did swallow the lump in my throat, feeling a cold sweat run down the side of my face. I was trying to visualize what these supernaturals looked like, but I was struggling.

"OH!" The blonde rose her hand and waved it. "Me!"

"What is it, Bunny?" the man growled, clearly knowing her name. That was either a sign that she'd already gotten on the guard's good side or bad side here.

"What about the final floor? I heard there's a scary floor! Can't we have a tour?" She sounded like a pleading puppy trying to get a treat.

"No one is going to Level Four," he declared. "Unless you want to commit suicide. That's arranged once a week, so feel free to sign up at the bulletin board next to the vending machine in the cafeteria.

The three of us were silent.

Suicide? People go to Level Four to kill themselves?

"Level Four is for the most lethal supernatural beings out there. Gods. Demigods. Vampire kings. Forbidden angels. It's their own world and you surely don't want to get lost in it because you won't come out, sweetie doll," he specifically warned Bunny.

"Too bad. Sounds like the perfect place to have fun."

Is she actually flirting with this guy?!

From the way his eyes darkened and gave her a good run up and down her body, it was totally working. This girl would probably get privileges selling herself to the guards.

"If they're so amazing, why are they locked up like the rest of us criminals?" the old woman asked.

The man laughed, catching all of us off guard.

"That lot isn't here by force." The sinister smile that followed had goosebumps creeping along my skin. "They're living in the depths of these walls because they know just how powerful they are. To you all, captivity is a punishment. To them, captivity is their safe haven. If they go out, it's for pleasure, but it usually also involves many of those catastrophes you hear about on the news."

"You mean—" I paused. "Their existence outside these walls causes natural disasters?"

"Their existence and freedom will cause wars in other worlds, Little Miss Intrigued," he answered me.

Freedom causes wars in other worlds.

"That's the basics you need to know. Stay in your level and don't cause trouble, because we don't have time to save your sorry asses. If you can't defend yourself, don't pick a fight to begin with." His gaze landed on me, and I had to fight the urge to roll them.

Why do I feel as though these people think I'm the weakest link? Apparently, I'm a supernatural. Don't know what, but that has to count for something. Ugh.

"I'll be on my best behavior," Bunny said sweetly, acting like a princess.

"Can't keep any promises. I can defend myself," the older woman declared.

I opted not to join in their verbal declarations, keeping my words to myself.

"Good. You're dismissed. You have fifteen minutes until breakfast is up. Don't waste it."

"Yes, sir," we replied and rose up. As we were escorted out, I realized I had no choice but to head to the underground cafeteria to get food. Food could sometimes be brought to me during the middle of any food period if I decided to remain in my cell, but that time was long over, which left me with two options.

Wait until lunchtime, which would lead to starvation, or try my luck by aiming straight for the food and darting right out to my cell.

If I miss a meal, I'll pay for it later. Time to be risky.

I could already hear four loud groans at my decision, my men shaking their heads at the whole hunger versus getting killed debate. I was glad I had never truly experienced homelessness as a child or teen, or I'd have been thrown in jail for stealing food.

Damn metabolism.

"Boo. My man isn't here!" Bunny declared, catching a few passing prisoners' attention. I zoomed past her, my eye on the prize that was a good fifteen steps from where I was: food line.

It was intriguing to see how normal most of the prisoners looked, except for the few that had feline or bunny ears — or antlers — sticking out from the sides of their heads.

Just blend in, Cassandra. You don't have Tristan and his smooth talk here to help you out.

Reaching the line felt like I was walking through a war zone, where any step could trigger a bomb of mayhem. I was secretly hoping I could