Page 354 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 4

The chamber beyond was circular. Smooth steel with no other visible exit. Long slits ran along the domed ceiling. Vents of some kind? The doors closed behind us, trapping us in darkness. Helgi grabbed my hand as bodies began jostling against each other in panic. Someone smashed into me, slamming me into a wall. No. Not a wall. A body, taut and strong.

And then the lights came on, sickly green, and Big Red was looking down at me impassively—a pillar of calm in a sea of chaotic emotion so tangible it was like needles pricking my skin. The panic gripping my lungs eased off a fraction. If he could be calm, then it couldn’t be so bad, right?

And then a hiss filled the air, and for a moment, I imagined the Bloods had released a multitude of snakes into the chamber, but then an acrid stench stung my nostrils and clawed at the back of my throat. For a moment, there was no clean air, no oxygen. My pulse echoed in my ears. Helgi’s grip on my fingers slipped away, and the world began to slide. Big Red lurched toward me and steel wrapped itself around my waist, unforgiving and secure as I fell into eternal night.

The heat of a body pressed against mine, the band of arms around me, and the scent of a storm, sharp and heady, assaulted my senses, bringing the world sharply into focus. Bright amber eyes flecked with gold held me captive.

Big Red? I was on the ground wrapped in Big Red’s arms, practically straddling him. How the heck? Oh, shit. The chamber. The gas. He’d caught me as I’d fallen and they must have thrown us in here in a heap.

He scanned my face for a long moment. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” My voice came out unsure and raspy—obviously the effects of the gas.

He did that slow blink thing again and my pulse thudded hard in my throat. I scrambled off him, trying not to think about all the places our bodies made contact. Intimacy was always on my terms and this felt sneaky, forcing me to acknowledge the ridges of muscle on his abdomen where my palm pressed to him as I pushed up, and the thickness of his thighs between mine as I extricated myself. My pulse leapt in excitement like an eager puppy. It had been too long since I’d lain with a man. Finally free, I turned my attention to our surroundings. The fuckers had shoved us in a large cage. It had to be at least twelve-by-nine.

Big Red stood and then held out a hand to me. He was being chivalrous, of course, but there were no damsels here.

“I’m good, thanks.” I stood fluidly and surveyed the room.

It was pretty huge and our cage was one of nine. There were four on our side of the room and five opposite. The Bloods had provided mattresses for us to sleep on and a large bucket to use as a toilet. How fucking hospitable.

Around us, the other Skins lay silent and unconscious. It looked like Red and I were the only ones standing. “How long have you been awake?”

Big Red shrugged. “A few minutes before you came around.”

Helgi was here in the same cage as us and so was Bran and one of the twins. Where was the other twin? Ah, in the cage opposite us, and was that one of the other mercs lying next to him? Dunstan was on his side up against the bars of the opposite cell too. What the heck was going on here? I grabbed the bars, testing their strength.

“Don’t bother, that’s Obrilian steel. Only the best for us Skins,” Red drawled.

Damn him, how could he be so blasé about this? Obrilian was a combination of several metals, and once it was forged, it was unbreakable. I doubted even dragon fire could soften it, which was why many of the Bloods favored it. We were screwed.

Okay, think, Anya.

The Skins in the other cells were a mixed bunch just like us. There’d been almost fifty in the pen when the balloon had picked us up, and now there were only forty of us split into groups of four or five. Each cell had a plaque bolted to it, sticking out so those inside and out could read it. We were all numbered from one to nine. Did the numbers mean anything specific? Had they split us into these groups for a particular reason? And where the heck were the ten missing Skins? Too many questions and not enough information to formulate any kind of viable theory. The lack of control made my skin itch.

“This can’t be happening.” I leaned back against the bars. “I’m supposed to be packing up and leaving for the Furtherlands, not trapped in a cage in Draco City.”

His gaze grew speculative. “The Furtherlands? Why would you go there?” His voice was honey, thick and smooth. It soothed the frazzled edges of my nerves.

My pulse, which had been fluttering like a trapped rabbit since waking, slowed down. “Because my father seems to think we’d be able to make a home there.”

He canted his head, sweeping his gaze over my face. “And what do you think?”

My thoughts weren’t for sharing with strangers, but my lips seemed to have other ideas. “I think he’s crazy, but he’s also my dad, and he’s never been wrong before, so I’m willing to play. As long as I get my workshop, I’m golden.” Why the fuck was I telling him this shit?

“Workshop?”

“Yeah, I make stuff. Fix stuff.” And there it was again, the urge to talk. “Pretty handy with a wrench.”

I pressed my lips together. Damn, who knew nerves could make a motor mouth out of me? I blew out a breath and then inhaled to ground myself. Chit-chat wasn’t going to get us anywhere. It was a bloody waste of time.

His lips quirked in amusement. “Knowledge of machinery and tech is rare in the Outlands. Who trained you?”

“No one. I just kinda picked stuff up.” I ran my gaze over the room, past the other cages, looking for anything that we could use to get out of here.

“And you hope to take this knowledge into Dreki territory?” Red asked.

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