Chapter 5
Unable to sleep, Sam ignored Bellis’ threat. “Sleep, Princess, but know that when you wake, I’m gonna be right here.” She feigned sleep, forcing her eyes to stay closed, knowing Bellis was in fact watching her from the corner of her cell. Her shoulder, hip, and back moaned at how hard the floor was. She may as well have been lying directly on the concrete, because the thin mat offered zero cushion against the unforgiving floor. Rolling to her other side, she faced the door and the darkened wall. Her eyes peeked open, tracking to the corner where she saw the eerie neon-blue of Bellis’ eyes from the shadow as he continued to watch her. The blue of his eyes was so close to the color of her own eyes that it almost made her feel a kinship with the Demon. That, and his affinity for the darkness spoke to her, reminded her of herself.
She’d called him a Demon Walker, but Bellis was no demon. No, she knew demons, and Bellis was the opposite, regardless of how he tried to portray himself. Opposite of a demon. Angel? She chuffed a quiet laugh. Skin Walkers called their mates Angels. Hell, they even bore halos that they gifted to their Angels. Demons, Angels, Megalya. Lying on the floor in the cell she wondered at her place in this biblical plot. Did she even have a place? For so long she’d thought she was on the right side, doing good, but after so many years she wasn’t so sure. Skin Walkers were good, she knew this to her bones, but they hated her. She was, for all intents and purposes, a Megalya, and the Megalya were bad. Did that mean she was bad? Her mind swirled with all the things she’d done over the years. So many lies had fallen from her lips that she’d stopped keeping track. She existed beneath so much deceit and hate and subterfuge. She’d lost herself somewhere in the swirling vortex of bullshit that was her life, and she was certain now that even though she’d tried to leave a trail, there was no going back. The old Sam was gone. This false Sam, the one she’d created to survive, was who she was now. It’s all she ever would be.
The door opened, and disappointment was swift when King entered the room again with the same man from earlier. They stopped in front of the opened door and stared at her.
Sitting up with a quiet moan, she scraped her fingernails against her tingling scalp. She wanted a cigarette in the worst way. Damn Walkers! She’d started the disgusting habit as an excuse to exit a room when she needed, but after years of pretending, the bad habit now registered true cravings. The blessed little things helped calm her nerves and diminish her hunger. Both had become necessities.
Her head was beginning to pound with the need for escape, which triggered a need for nicotine. She refused to show any sign of her weakness. Lifting her head she glared at King, refusing to cower in the Second’s presence.
“Ready to talk?”
Getting to her feet, she eyed the open door, responding immediately to King’s query. “No.”
“Your lack of cooperation is staggering, Ms. Michaels. Worse, it’s insulting. I’m attempting to help you get yourself out of a situation that is more than detrimental to your health. I am not a patient man and, unfortunately for you, Monroe StoneCrow is even less so. Your time and luck have run out.” King’s eyes lingered on her for a moment as if giving her one last chance.
Silence.
Finally, he spoke. “Bellis, Ms. Michaels now belongs to the Keepers. She is of no further use to us.”
Sam’s gut wrenched as her mouth suddenly dried up. He wouldn’t! “You can’t just give me to them! I’m not property to be discarded. I haven’t even spoken to Monroe!”
“And you’re not going to. He’s preoccupied with his family, and I’m making the executive decision to ship you out. If you’re as valuable to the Megalya as I think you are, then I don’t want them coming here for you. No.” He shook his head hard. “One attack on the Estate was enough, and it’s left me quite busy. Thanks to your Megalya, I have neither the time nor the patience to interrogate a traitor. You’re going to the Keepers, because I’m certain they’ll be more forgiving. You won’t stay here at StoneCrow. It’s done.”
Behind King and Bishop two menacing figures stepped into the room. One stepped forward, and for a moment, Sam couldn’t see his face beneath his dark, hooded cape. Lifting his head, he shoved the hood back.
“This is Fatal,” King informed. “The ruling Keeper.”
With his pale complexion and long dark hair, he looked more human than she’d expected.
“Keo!” Fatal growled with clear pleasure lighting his eyes. “Take the traitor to the North Fortress.”
Sam stepped back as this Keo approached. He was tall, lanky, but covered in corded muscles that bunched and flexed as he moved. He was a stark contrast to Bellis whose frame was much wider, beefier. Keo was all golden sun-kissed skin, covered in tattoos that weren’t any designs she’d ever seen. The markings looked like black dots on his shoulders where the skin was exposed by the formfitting tank top he wore. The dots went all the way down both arms and up his neck. His golden eyes were outlined in black that ran from the corner of each eye down on either side of his nose and ended under his chin. He looked like some kind of cheetah or leopard. His short hair—the color of honey—was cropped close on the sides and longer on top where his bangs were gelled up and back. He had a trimmed goatee and looked like he belonged on some underwear ad. He was handsome, if you were into boys. Her gaze shifted from Keo to the corner where Bellis’ eyes glowed brightly.
Keo’s arm shot out too fast for Sam to even see. His hand locked on her bicep in a painful grip, and he jerked her forward before shoving her in front of him and forcing her into motion. His hold on her remained bruising. His golden eyes were hard as he stared straight ahead.
***
Bellis watched everything play out, his dark eyes tracking the Keeper, Keo, as he exited the interrogation room with Sam. He didn’t like how rough the Keeper was with her, regardless of the fact that she was a traitor. If Fatal hadn’t turned to him just then, he would have followed Keo to relinquish the Keeper of his duty.
“Bellis,” Fatal growled accusingly as he pinned the Walker with angry eyes, his nostrils flaring before his lip peeled back in clear disgust. “She is not viable.”
“Didn’t say she was,” he growled. “Wasn’t looking!” Bellis knew what he meant. She’d be no Skin Walker or Keeper’s mate. She was now a prisoner, which meant she’d relinquish the information they sought, or take it to her grave.
Bellis nodded once, but he couldn’t extinguish the small spark that had flared to life within him, warning him that he needed to protect Sam. He knew that there was something else going on with the woman, something she refused to divulge.
“I’ll assist in her delivery to the North Fortress.”
“No,” was Fatal’s simple reply, but it wasn’t up to him.
“Monroe has put me in charge of her. It’ll remain that way until she’s delivered to your compound.” Without another word he exited the room to follow after Keo and Sam.