Page 25 of Reclaimed

"It's okay," she sniffles, wiping some of the blood with her sleeve. "I'm Kenzie."

"Jersey," I offer, pushing to stand and extending a hand.

"Thanks," Kenzie says, placing her palm in mine as I help pull her to her feet. "Sorry about your shirt."

"Eh," I shrug, glancing down at the blood staining the cuff of my sleeve. "It's not the first– or the second– time that I've had someone else's blood on me this week."

Kenzie gives a polite laugh as she hobbles over to the bed opposite mine and settles cross-legged on the thin mattress.

Too bad it's not the joke she thinks it is.

"So, what's your story?" she asks.

"Guardian defaulted," I start, scooting back on my bed and leaning against the wall. "He was executed and I was reclaimed. You?"

"Mine used me as collateral on a loan, and defaulted..." she rolls her eyes. "Again."

I stop picking at the skin around my nails, brows furrowing as I glance up. "Again?"

"Yeah," she sighs. "He really likes poker but isn't even kinda good at it. Then to soothe his ego, he snorts a bunch of coke or downs a bottle of vodka and plays even worse the next hand. Rinse and repeat."

"Jeez..." I hesitate for half a beat, unsure if I really want the answer to what I'm about to ask. "So, you've been reclaimed before?"

She nods. "Twice. But he usually finds a way to come up with the money while I'm being reassessed. He's got some twisted deal with the appraisers, making sure I'm assigned to the auction tier, then he pays a premium to buy me before the actual auction and lets whatever Enforcer helps use me before he collects."

My mouth hinges open. "What? They can do that? How?"

Kenzie laughs, a sad smile curving her lips. "Because they run the place. Enforcers, Commanders, the rich assholes at the center of the city. They either make the law, are the law, or own the law."

I hum in response, though I shouldn't be surprised. I mean, I'm not surprised. I know The Registry is crawling with predators who are protected like an endangered species. But learning that there's a whole other heinous faction of them makes my stomach sink.

"You said they make sure you're assigned to the auction tier, what else is there?"

"Well, there's auctions, the girls that are visually appealing to buyers. But if they don't think you'll sell for much, they see what skills you have that they can exploit for a profit and assign you to the work duty tier. And last but not least…" She trails off as she shifts her position, arm propping beneath her head as she lays on her side.

"There's black tier, the Vanguard's very own purgatory." She yawns, a fresh trickle of blood sliding down her cheek. "If they can't make money off you, then you’re basically a dud. A liability to their bottom line, and the last thing any of them want is to take a loss. So in order to keep their fucked up ecosystem afloat, they find a way to bleed profit from you. Could be a clandestine auction to a depraved freak from another city or country, medical trials or organ donation, and if nothing else, a training target for new enforcers."

"Ah..." My chin dips, the movement slow and numb as I pick apart her words. I've been an Asset since I was fourteen. I have exactly zero useful skills outside of being some rich creep’s house pet. But will everything I've done over the last twenty-four hours be factored into my assessment?

I roll my bottom lip nervously between my teeth as I pull back the covers and slip beneath the stiff fabric.

"Hey, don't worry about it. You're cute. I'm sure you'll go to auction." She twists around, facing away from me as she adds, "It's not like you stabbed someone on your way in."

9

JERSEY

A311

"Hold still," the nurse murmurs as she uncaps the needle and searches for a vein.

Her wrinkled hand trembles with every attempt, the tip stabbing everything but a vein. On the fifth try, I swear she hits bone.

"Ah," I hiss, jerking my arm back on instinct.

I hate needles– always have. There’s something seriously off-putting about how they look so long, then disappear completely beneath the skin. My brain just refuses to accept that it’s not going to break off in there and float through my body, lodging itself into a vital organ and making me bleed out internally.

The Crypt Keeper lookalike presses her lips into a thin line, hollow cheeks puffing as she huffs out a breath. Like it's my fault her vision sucks and she can’t hit her target.