Chapter One
Thirty minutes.
Thirty fucking minutes.
The guard’s shift change had a thirty-minute window—just long enough for me to slip out of my magically bound cell of steel and explore the outdoor bathhouse. I silently waited for my moment, aching to reach out and rattle the barred door of my cage, even though I knew the pain wasn’t worth the momentary satisfaction. These walls were spelled to recognize disobedience. We were corralled like cattle waiting for slaughter, and one toe out of line would create a chasm of torture to burst through our bodies.
I learned a long time ago to follow the rules, but every now and then, I couldn’t help myself.
Thirty minutes wasn’t a lot of time, but it was better than nothing. I’d been looking forward to the illusion of freedom since I first noticed that there was a gap in the watchman’s schedule. After two days of observing the consistent disruption in routine, I decided that an unguided stroll was worth the risk. The desperation within me was an unfamiliar sensation. I was so used to the seclusion, control, and loneliness that I didn’t know what I was missing.
But not anymore.
Usually, there was always someone positioned outside my cell. I was never alone, always stuck under the watchful eye of the Nightmare’s finest guards. The men and women were always stationed exactly four feet from my door and rarely spoke to me. They simply stood there with their arms crossed over their chest and their beady eyes focused solely on my cell. I considered myself a boring subject and figured they spent their shift counting down the seconds until they could move along in their rotation. But unlike them, I was always stuck here.
I’d heard at breakfast two days before that one of my least favorite guards—a gruff, huffing sort of man named Boo—was out with a cracked skull. Some gossiping goblins told me about Boo’s fight with a nine-foot troll on the more dangerous fourth level. Trolls were nasty creatures, and anything they touched became resistant to magic. Keeping them controlled here was exceptionally difficult, and their resistance to magic made the guard’s injury nearly impossible for the healers to fix.
While Boo was out recovering, his spot on the schedule was left unattended. It was kismet. Divine intervention. This prison was a well-oiled machine, but occasionally things slipped through the cracks, which meant I’d have thirty entire minutes to explore. Thirty minutes alone. Thirty minutes to feel something outside of my mundane life here at Nightmare Penitentiary. I planned to use every damn second.
Nightmare Penitentiary was both a mystery to me and a home. The vast, complex building housed supernaturals of every walk of life. It had various levels and wards, each with their own secrets and dangers. The air smelled like stunted, stale magic and blood. I didn’t grow up listening to lullabies and nursery rhymes. I was raised on the sounds of siren screams and tortured cries.
These concrete walls were all I’d ever known. I was the pulse of the prison, a permanent resident kept buried in the heart of isolation. I didn’t understand my purpose or why I was here. I’d committed no crime. I’d done nothing wrong. I was born in this Nightmare, and I’d probably die here, too.
I paced my cell while casually watching my current guard, Dolorian, out of the corner of my eye. He was a portly shifter with wispy hair on his cheeks and deep burgundy eyes. His black uniform was snug on his round body, and his hands looked big enough to crush my skull in his fist. He was busy digging his finger so far up his crooked, round nose that he was probably poking what few brain cells he had. It was entertaining to watch.
I silently counted in my head. There were no clocks here. They didn’t want us aware of powerful concepts like seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, and years. They kept us under their thumb by giving us as few allowances as possible. I learned how to pass the hours by memorizing the routines of this hellish place and by keeping a constant internal clock ticking in my mind. Every thirty minutes, the guards changed, and I had three more guard changes until bedtime. Every twenty-four guard changes, I was allowed to eat in the dining hall with the other women on my floor. Every six meals, I was allowed to bathe. Every fourteenth bath, I was allowed to go outside. And every seventh outside visit, the warden came to chat with me.
Tally marks on the floor of my cell helped me to keep track of it all. It was mundane, but my mind welcomed having a task.
I watched Dolorian in anticipation, waiting for him to check the time and disappear.
Just a bit longer.
Whistling down the hall caught my attention, and I smiled when Dolorian pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, gave me a stern look, then left his station outside my cell. I watched his back until the black uniform, stretched across his broad shifter shoulders, disappeared completely, then I let out a sigh of relief. I was alone. Alone. Afuckinglone.
Not wanting to waste much time, I dug my fingers into the crack in the concrete of my cell, where I kept my few hidden treasures: a pencil, paper, chocolate I traded some blood to a witch for, and a key. A very, very special key. I’d swiped it from Louisia, the cafeteria director, the day before. The elderly demon had a soft spot for me. Hell, that woman was the closest thing to a mother I’d ever known. We didn’t talk much, but she always slipped me extra food when the guards weren’t watching. It was a polite but cautious mercy. And since meals were every twenty-four guard changes, she was quite the constant in my life.
Breakfast and dinner gave me the routine I craved. It was the only time I got to socialize with the others, and I was thankful for the little treats Louisia would sneak me. She’d probably be furious once she realized I stole it, but I had good reason. Well, I had a selfish reason. I couldn’t really explain my desire to feel the moon on my skin, but I was desperate for its glow.
It started happening sixty meals ago—so about a month. There was a new guard assigned to this post. He was young and power hungry. I could feel the eagerness to please rolling off of him. Occasionally, we got guards like that, guards who wanted to kiss the warden’s ass and rise in the ranks. Almost all of them were too cocky for their own good. They took initiatives they weren’t supposed to. He fucked up the schedule and sent me to bath time at night instead of the morning. I was never allowed to bathe at night. The outdoor bathhouse was strictly forbidden to me after dark.
I’d never been allowed outside at night. It was a rule that had been drilled into me for as long as I could remember. Don’t let Layne out at night. Give her a cell with no windows. I’d always wondered why but never fought them on it. Growing up in Nightmare, you learned to pick your battles.
I tried desperately to warn him, but instead of listening, the guard slapped me clear across the cheek and told me to keep my mouth shut. I still remembered trembling as he walked me to the bathhouse, nervous about the change in routine. When you didn’t have time or freedoms, or even friends, you found comfort in the familiarity of your patterns.
I didn’t know how old I was, but I counted years by the number of visits the warden gave me—twenty, by my memory. And in all my time here, not once had I been gifted with the beautiful view of the large, glowing orb hanging in the night sky.
The moon was stunning. Ethereal. I was completely stunned the first moment I laid eyes on it.
The moment I stepped outside, my skin buzzed with an unfamiliar energy. I couldn’t stop staring at it. The last thing I remembered was shouts and a bright light. Mysterious songs flowed in and out of my mind.