Page 34 of Pulling Strings

Clyde responded with a grunt.

Two others filed in behind the new arrival: a tall, dark-skinned man with an impressive pompadour and a woman with purple hair braided into a mohawk. She wore full makeup and had cut and tied her jumpsuit so she looked more like a pinup model than a prisoner. Being jailed in a coed prison was the only good thing that had happened all day.

The first man led the charge, scanning the room to find me seated on the floor. When he smiled, he flashed a row of pointed teeth.

“New guy,” he said, moving toward me.

In the small space, it didn’t take more than a couple of steps to make me feel pressed. I stood, looking from him to his followers and back again.

He extended his hand for a shake. “Heard Clyde got a new bunkie, and we wanted to make sure you got the Thorngate welcome.”

I forced a tight smile. “How kind.”

He looked down at his waiting hand. With a sigh, Itook it and shook.

“Name’s Jaxon Rhodes. Call me Jax,” he said. “And you are…?” His fingers tightened around my palm then twisted, turning my hand tattoo side up.

His cronies leaned over both of his shoulders. I tried to pull back, but Jax hung on.

“Fitch Farrow,” he cooed. “I didn’t believe it.”

I jerked free of his grasp and staggered back into the wall. If not for the antimagic making me unsteady and stupid, I would have seen that move a mile away.

“Clyde, you dog.” Jax moved over to my distracted cellmate and thumped him on the back. “You shoulda told us we were in the presence of greatness.”

The pinup model perched on the lower bunk while Mister Pompadour took up a post in the open doorway. I could have taken Jax’s words as a compliment but, coming from a man with fanglike teeth and yellow eyes that looked decidedly feral, they felt far from flattering.

Jax looked me over. “You know, it’s not a great idea to sport gang tags in prison. You should see about getting something to cover that up.”

I snorted, remembering similar thoughts while I strolled oh so casually between the cubicles in the East Side Tower. “Even if I did, I still have this face.” I gestured to myself. “If it looks like a duck, right?”

“A duck.” He laughed. “You’re funny, Fitch Farrow. That’s a hell of a name, ain’t it? Rolls right off the tongue.”

“Jaxy,” the woman said in a husky voice. She rose from Clyde’s bunk. “You gonna introduce us or what?”

Jax frowned. “Didn’t I?”

She shook her head.

“Ah, sorry.” He waved toward her, providing me an opportunity to give her a more lingering appraisal. Her jumpsuit top was unbuttoned down to her navel,showcasing a lacy black bra that was definitely not prison issued. She also wore a nose ring and a respectable amount of ink.

“This is miss Jette Black.” When Jax said her name, she flicked her forked tongue at me. An effective come-on if I’d ever seen one.

“And that’s York Tompkins.” He motioned to the man blocking the doorway.

Slim-bodied and handsome, York stood tall enough that his coiffed hair touched the top of the doorframe. His eyes swirled deep blue as he stared at me, and his brown skin had a fishy sheen. Aquamancer, if I were a betting man, though those weren’t usually criminal types. Jette’s power remained a mystery—not that it mattered in this magicless place—while Jax had a feral vibe that, combined with his slitted eyes, spoke of some kind of animal shifter.“Now that we’re all familiar,” Jax continued. “How about you let us show you around the place?”

Only then did York move aside, clearing a path to the cell block where a minor altercation had spilled into the walkway. Gawkers flocked around, obscuring the action as they cheered and jeered.

The Bloody Hex had enemies both in and out of prison, but they had allies, too. I didn’t recognize Jax or his followers, so I was unsure where to slot them. I was even less certain whether or not to trust them.

I glanced at Clyde, who had abandoned his notebook in favor of observing the proceedings. When he caught my eyes, his head gave a slow shake.

“I’ll pass,” I told Jax. “Thanks anyway.”

“Aw, come on, Fitch Farrow,” he argued. “Don’t wanna miss a guaranteed good time. We’re the best tour guides around.”

“Pretty sure I can figure it out. It’s a circle, right?” Itipped my head toward the cell block outside. “I may not have graduated high school, but I know my shapes.”

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