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“Come on. You know Tore doesn’t want anyone messing with her,” the guard who was purposefully not looking in my direction muttered and elbowed the other man. “He’s already gonna be pissed about her face.”
The guard staring at me grinned wider but thankfully turned and left. When I heard the door shut, I exhaled.
A long moment of silence stretched out, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Assholes,” a faint feminine voice said hoarsely.
I snapped my head in the direction of the other cell, the bars thick, leaving hardly any space between them. I heard the rustling of material, then watched as her small form shifted on the bed. She groaned and then rose, sitting on the edge of the mattress, just breathing in and out slowly.
“Although the term ‘asshole’ is kind of a compliment compared to those guys.” Her voice was strained, as if it hurt her to even speak. The image of her slight shape covered in bruises flashed in my head again, and I found myself standing and walking over to the bars. At first I just stood there, staring at her, not saying anything.
“Are you okay?” Such a stupid question. I took another step closer. She didn’t move or speak for long moments, so long I didn't think she’d respond. But then I watched as she turned her head in my direction, lifting a hand to push the heavy fall of her dark hair away from her face. The shadows made it impossible to see her features clearly, and I had a sneaking suspicion they kept things dank and dark down here to keep everyone off-kilter.
Because how could you not feel hopeless when it felt like you were in a hole?
“I’m okay.” Another long pause. “Thanks for asking.”
I could tell she was looking at the ground, and the tone of her voice held a hint of confusion.
“I can’t remember the last time someone asked me that.”
My heart lurched in my chest, and I reached out to grab the bars, the metal cold and rough. I felt some kind of low-level hum moving through them and let go to look at my hands, turning them over, but otherwise I saw nothing wrong with them. I’d assumed there’d be marks, painless burns.
I lifted my hands and hesitantly touched the bars again. I could feel that hum move up my arms. My brows pulled down in confusion.
“Magically enforced. It keeps everyone in order. Since you're human, it doesn't have the same effect, since you're weaker and can’t break or bend the metal.” The woman stood and took a couple of steps toward me. “It lets the big boys know their place here and who’s in charge.”
I focused back on her and swallowed my nerves.
Magically enforced. Okay. “Where am I?”
She exhaled again and lifted her hand to grab her hair, pulling it all over to one side of her shoulder. She moved closer, and I watched as she started braiding the thick length. “You don’t know where you’re at?”
She was only about five or ten feet from me, and although the shadows were still thick and cloying around us, I could make her out a little bit better.
“In hell, sweetheart,” she said with a pained voice. “At least I assume this is what hell would feel like.”
She was small, barely five-foot-five, maybe one-hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. She looked young too. Twenty possibly, no older than that. She looked rough as hell.
“God,” I whispered and wanted to slap a hand over my mouth because no doubt she could read my expression as I stared at her. She laughed softly and shook her head, braiding the end of her hair before giving me a small smile.
“Do I look that bad?” There was a hint of teasing in her voice, and I was shocked that she could feel any kind of amusement or sound uplifting at a time like this. “Actually, don’t answer that. I haven't looked at my reflection in… gods, I don't know how long.” She lifted her hand and touched her mouth, the corner bloody and swollen, the dark bruise already forming.
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “They rough me up every once in a while, but it’s been a long stretch of time since they’ve shown so much interest in me. I guess they wanted to remind me who has the power.” She shrugged and dropped her hand to her side. “But they’ve been pulling me out of the cell more frequently the last month.” She looked at the ground and tugged at the white shift dress she wore. It was frayed at the end and looked worse for wear, in need of a good wash.
“Would the two of you shut the fuck up?” a deep, distorted voice barked out, and I jumped, moving backward even though I had bars all around me.
“Bane, mind your business.”
He growled in response.
For such a tiny thing, the raven-haired woman had some bite in her.
“Who’s that?” I asked, but a part of me said I probably didn’t want to know. I’d heard shuffling, growling coming from the other cells, strange languages being spoken, harsh words shouted. I knew there were more than just me and her and this Bane fellow, but how many there were, and what they were, was a total mystery to me.
She walked over to the wall closest to the bars and leaned against it. “Demon. He’s a pain in the ass most of the time, but he does make good entertainment when they don’t sedate him enough before taking him out of the cell and he goes crazy on them.”
