Page 101 of Caged Kitten

“Anyone said anything to you?”

“Guards?”

“Hmm.”

I shook my head. “No.”

Which was… odd. With Katja, we all had a target on our backs, and some of the goons had been using that lately to imply a whole load of bullshit. But this evening had been radio silence.

“Me neither,” Rafe muttered, taking stock of the cellblock with a quick sweep. “No one’s kicked the shit out of me either, which is—”

“Concerning,” I said gruffly. This was a change of pace. Even if we hadn’t been singled out by the warden, Xargi guards got a twisted thrill harassing inmates. Physically. Verbally. No doubt sexually. The fact that no one had said a word or put a hand on us except to cuff us for transport set me on edge more than anything.

Rafe’s eyes met mine, that sea-glass gaze riddled with worry—with icy suspicion. “Agreed. Where’re the others? Any idea?”

“None.” Pathetic. An alpha who lost his clan, who couldn’t do a mental head count in the wake of a disaster, didn’t deserve to be an alpha. Rafe exhaled sharply, then gritted his thumb into his shoulder, massaging it absently.

“Fuck.”

Yeah, that about summed it up.

We whipped around together when the door opened again, my inner dragon silent for a beat, sniffing boisterously, searching for Katja’s scent—only deflate and then rage when Deimos and Constance stumbled into the cellblock. In an almost violent contrast to us, the demon and the maenad looked like they’d been in the brawl to end all brawls: cuts, bruises, scrapes, shredded knuckles and torn jumpsuits. Pink hair matted, Constance limped along without a sneer or a crazed cackle, and Deimos’s left eye was swollen shut, dried blood caked under his nostrils. His lieutenant leaned heavily on him as soon as the guards removed their cuffs, and the pair shuffled straight for their cells, parting without a word and vanishing inside.

Right.

This day was a mess—and the mindfucks just kept on coming. Deimos was a pet favorite amongst the guards, but someone—or someones—had beaten him to a pulp.

“What—”

“Where’s Katja?” Rafe growled, grabbing my arm and forcing me back around to him. Deimos and Constance hadn’t seemed to penetrate his radar. I shook my head, a snarl rumbling in my chest, my inner dragon bathed in his own fire at the thought of her absence.

“Wish I knew,” I muttered, steeling against the next onslaught, then coughing up a bit of smoke. Fantastic. “The guy inside won’t stop calling for her. He’s losing it.”

Rafe pursed his lips for a moment, then patted at my shoulder. “We all are. She probably is too. Her emotions are… a lot. Do you feel them?”

“Barely.” We needed to strengthen our bond before I truly felt the ebb and flow of her feelings. When we were in the same room, I could read her like a book. Separated, I struggled to connect to the tether that stretched from her heart to mine—and it pissed me the fuck off that Rafe could sense her, all from something as simple as a bite.

“Well, something’s gone wrong on her end,” the vampire insisted softly, retracting his hand and sliding both into his jumpsuit pockets. He even leaned back on his heels, putting some subtle distance between us like he realized the minefield he had stumbled into. We seldom discussed both our connections with Katja. To his credit, he usually addressed mine, but he felt for her. It was so obvious that even a blind man could see it—the look in his eye when he spoke about her. I could hear it in his voice, his tone affectionate, warm, even in the direst of circumstances. Rafe reserved that inflection for me and his work.

And now Katja.

He would give his life for her—of that much I was sure.

No matter how I felt about that, no matter how jealousy flared in the man, my inner dragon was at peace sharing his mate with a blood-brother, Rafe’s loyalty, sincerity, and integrity mattering above all else. He would protect her. Cherish her. Call her out on nonsense when I was too smitten, too entangled in our fated bond to see clearly.

I needed that.

I needed him.

We both did, Katja and me, same as this orphaned vampire needed a family, a clan, a coven.

But this orphaned vampire and my mate had issues of their own to settle at some point, tension still simmering between them since Rafe had lost his fangs. Hopefully they would have the chance to make it right.

The cellblock door opened and closed twice more in the hour that followed, but only to let in Faustus and Helen, both of whom had been in the cafeteria with me. It wasn’t in their nature to riot, nor to follow. Fiercely independent, bird shifters seldom grouped together unless their inner birds traveled in flocks. They had gravitated to me tonight, however, sensing my alpha status without ever acknowledging it, hovering nearby in the cafeteria, shuffling closer as more inmates were thrust into the fold. Now, they beelined for their cells, disappearing inside same as Deimos and Constance. Rafe and I continued to loiter in the common area, waiting impatiently for the return of our mate, for the reappearance of our impulsive fae.

And when Fintan finally did make an appearance, he was the first of us to look like shit.

Bloodied nose in a splint, eyes black and bruised. As soon as the cuffs left him, he was off in a fury, moving faster than I’d ever seen him, and headed straight for us, his speed a rival for any vampire, murder glinting in his bright green gaze.

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