Her voice gained power as the women around us went silent, listening to her.
“And the angels? They are no better than their demon cousins. Light and dark, two kinds of demons that only want to destroy your soul, leaving your body to rot.” She lifted a hand to me and pointed to my hair, daring to snag a long strand of it. “But it’s the vampires that be the worst. We all know that. They drink our blood. They fuck us senseless. And then, when they are tired of us, they feed us to their pets. Abominations of their own making. Dragon-like creatures they call Hunters. More like devourers, I say. Hunting implies that us prey have a fighting chance to get away.”
My hands were cold now, the rain pelting down was turning icy, but it barely registered as the woman’s words sunk deep into my heart, shaking what confidence I had left.
“How do you even know this? You haven’t been there. Or you wouldn’t be here.” I pointed out and a few of the other woman murmured their agreement.
The woman snorted. “My man was one of the port guards. He knows. He knows the stories, and he whispered them to me.”
“How’d you end up here then?” A redhead with bright blue eyes said. “If you’ve been fucking a port guard why aren’t you safe?”
The blonde’s lips pursed. “Because he decided he wanted to be rid of me and an unwanted child.” She smoothed her top over a slightly bulging little belly. “Easiest way, I suppose.”
Beside me, Hannah shook so hard she dropped to her knees.
“I . . .I’m not strong enough. I can’t do this, Sienna. I can’t. My mother told me . . .that there is always a way out.”
Her words didn’t make sense. I turned toward her as she lifted a hand to her hair. My brain struggled to process her words as she tugged a pin from her brown locks. Long, slender, and shaved to a deadly point.
Her eyes met mine. “Be brave for us both, Sienna.”
In one, swift motion, she drove the pointed hairpin into the side of her throat. She gurgled, toppling to one side before pulling the pin free. Blood spurted from the wound as I dropped to my knees next to her.
“Hannah, no!” I pressed my hands to her throat, but it was too late. She’d severed an artery, and her hot blood slicked my icy hands.
A series of screams went up around me as Hannah’s eyes met mine one last time, her mouth moving without sound.
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.
I saw the moment she died, the light flickering out of her dark brown eyes, the pupils fading in the strangest of ways. As though a cloud had slid over her vision as her soul left her.
“Get off ‘er!”
Rough, calloused hands grabbed me by the shoulder, and I was flung away from Hannah, into the mud and piss and shit of the pens.
I turned on my hands and knees to see the Pen Wardens drag Hannah out by her ankle.
“One for the chum, that’s easy enough,” the one dragging her barked.
I closed my eyes and fought back the tears. Not because Hannah didn’t deserve my grief, but…she was right. I had to be brave for both of us.
Both me and Jordan.
I could almost hear his voice now, building me up the way he always did.
“If anyone can do it, you can, Ceecee.”
I dug my hands into the mud to push myself up, and there under my palm was something narrow, hard, metallic. I clenched my hand around what could only be the hairpin that Hannah had snuck past the guards.
Of course no weapons were allowed, but she’d gotten this through.
Pulling it carefully out of the mud, I wiped it on my shirt, cleaning the worst of the filth and Hannah’s blood off it. The golden hairpin had a butterfly etched into the thickest part.
“Head toward the light, butterfly girl,” I whispered as I reached back and twisted up the thick mass of my hair and slid the pin through it.
A weapon, however small, might give me the edge I needed. And perhaps it would give Hannah’s horrible death some sort of meaning if I managed to stay alive, find Jordan and escape.
“Oye, all of yous. Line up.” Moldy Sausage Man with the furred vest was back.
A tiny bit of hope flared. He looked exactly as you’d expect someone working for the werewolf clans would look if his clothing and the distinct smell of wet dogs emanating from him were any indication.
It had to be the wolves bidding on us then.
Hold tight, Ceecee. Almost there.
I was on my feet in a flash and fell into line with the others. This was not the moment to tip my hand that I was different from the other women. That I had a purpose. That I had a reason to be there. It would come, I just had to be patient. I let a slow breath out and took a step, then another as my turn came.
Portly boy held his hand up. “Name, age, any talents?”
Now, I should have known better, but the fear and shock made me . . .impertinent.
“Is this the Miss America contest? I didn’t bring my bikini.” I fake gasped and put a hand to my mouth. “Goodness, whatever will I do?”
For being such a big man, he moved fast. His hand snaked out and he clapped me on the side of the head, quite literally ringing my bell.
“Name, age, talents. Now, unless you want to go straight into the chum bin with your little friend over there.”
He grabbed my head and twisted it so I had no choice but to look at poor Hannah, crumpled in a heap in between the pens.
Her glazed eyes stared back at me.
For just a moment I saw Jordan there instead, crumpled, his eyes lifeless.
No, no I refused to believe he was gone.
“Sienna, twenty-one.” I paused, struggling to find something I was good at. Sure, dancing was on that short list, but what would werewolves want?
“I’m…um, good with animals?”
He let out a snort of disgust before shoving me along. “Follow the others. Good fucking luck with a talent like that.”
That was it. No other direction.
And then, I was pushed down a narrow path between pens of weeping women. I bowed my head, a mixture of outrage and sorrow racing through me. The tears leaking from my eyes were hot, scalding my cold skin as I trudged up a low set of stairs and stood on a platform. I tried to see into the gallery of seats before us but floodlights along the floor blazed to life, effectively blinding us to anyone or anything else besides each other.
“They took men to the wolves last month, so it’ll be us women now to the same pack.”
“How can you be sure?”
I looked around to see the woman who’d claimed to be sleeping with one of the guards.
“Because Robbie told me so,” she replied with a smirk, once more touching her belly. “Best he could do for me. They like breeders over in the wolf packs.”
I looked at her belly, and a cold swell of unease gripped me. Was Robbie the kind of man who actually wanted to help his baby mama, or was he the kind to try and get rid of her in a more permanent sense?
The women in front of me shifted from foot to foot in the silence. The frantic whispers started, but I could hear the low murmur of male voices in the audience and the creaking of chairs from below.
The bidders.
The werewolves.
They could see us, but we couldn’t see them.
Heart pounding, I strained to get a look at them.
“Can anyone see them?” I asked.
Someone shushed me, but a fresh and all-encompassing sense of dread swept through me. I had to see the bidders.