Imprisoned Read online

  “I feel the same way about you, you know,” he murmured. “You’re extraordinary, Ari. Beautiful…intelligent…fierce…” He sighed deeply. “And you make me question everything about myself. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ari said again, feeling miserable once more. “So sorry, Lathe. I wish…wish things were different.”

  “I do too, little one.” He sighed. “Well, we should get some sleep. Long day tomorrow—and a long night too. I forgot to tell you but Mukluk came and informed me that the two of us will be serving at the meeting of the Mistresses tomorrow night.”

  “The meeting of the Mistresses?” Ari asked, scooting over to make some room as he finally got into the bed beside her. “What’s that?”

  “A meeting of the BleakHall Board of Directors—the Yonnite Mistresses who own this place.” Lathe’s voice was grim. “A couple of them aren’t bringing body servants and the Goddess knows, they can’t be neglected for a moment. So you and I will be helping to serve them.”

  “Why us?” Ari asked curiously. “Is it a trustee thing or what?”

  “It’s a non-female-hater thing,” Lathe told her. “The Horvaths know that Kindred won’t hurt a female so Mukluk chose me for that reason. You…well, I’m guessing he thinks you’re too young and innocent to be a female-hater yet. So you get the honors too.”

  “I don’t mind, at least it’s something different,” Ari said, snuggling down beside him, though she was careful not to press her breasts against his muscular arm. God, he was so warm. She’d been freezing when she was sitting apart from him. Now, just having him beside her, radiating heat, was already thawing her out.

  Lathe snorted. “Have you ever seen Yonnite Mistresses? They’re different, all right. And extremely picky. You’ll have to follow my lead and do exactly what you’re told.”

  “I can handle myself in mixed company,” Ari said, stung by his tone. “I know how to act around ladies.”

  “That’s well and good but Yonnite Mistresses are no ladies,” Lathe said dryly. He yawned and sighed. “Anyway, it’s a problem for tomorrow. It’s late and I’m tired. Do you mind if I turn towards you or would you rather sleep back to back?”

  Ari’s heart ached fiercely.

  “You can turn towards me,” she whispered. “If…if you don’t mind if I turn towards you.”

  “I’d like that, little one.” Lathe shifted towards her and Ari turned towards him as well, looking up into his fierce, beautiful eyes. “Good night, Lathe,” she whispered, wishing she could get closer. Wishing she could kiss him or cuddle with him or touch him in any way. But she didn’t dare. She could only lay there longing for what she couldn’t have…for what she could never have.

  “Good night, Ari,” he rumbled.

  He looked at her for a long moment and Ari could almost feel the longing in the air between them. His scent—his bonding scent, she realized—intensified until she could barely keep herself from pressing against him. But somehow she resisted. At last his jewel-like eyes closed, leaving her still wanting.

  It was a long time before she could go to sleep. And when she did, Ari had troubled dreams that left her restless and desperately sad. Dreams where she was crying for Lathe, who was standing on the other side of a deep chasm. But when she reached for him, trying to bridge the gap that separated them, the big Kindred just turned away.

  He’s gone, she thought in her dream. Gone and I’ll never get him back.

  Thirty-Two

  “Stubbins says you’re to fix the mechanical slop arms in the kitchen. They’re actin’ up worse than usual.”

  Tubby, the inmate with the enormous belly, spoke without looking up from the porno mag he was holding about a foot from his face.

  “Yeah—he already left out the tools you need.” Another inmate—Ari had heard him called “Ratty” because of his long nose that twitched constantly, nodded at the dull silver tools with their red handles. They were lying on the folding table, where the gang boss usually sat smoking his endless supply of nico-sticks, just where she had left them before lunch.

  “Oh.” Ari hesitated, not sure if she ought to take orders from anyone but the gang leader himself. “Where is Stubbins, anyway?” she asked.

  “Went to review a new shipment of skin-mags and he’ll probably be back real soon-like.” Tubby sounded irritated that she was bothering him.

  “Yeah, so make yourself scarce and go fix stuff, fix-it. Or you’re going to be in big trouble when he gets back, ‘ent you?” Ratty demanded. He had a portable vid-viewer strapped to his face and from the sizable tent in the bottom half of his jumpsuit, he also was looking at pornographic material.

  Ari tried one more time.

  “But…I was under the impression that I was supposed to go back to the hole after lunch. I’m still in the middle of re-wiring—”

  “I’m telling you, if you don’t fix them fucking slop arms you’re going to fucking regret it,” Tubby growled. “Now go!”

  Uncertainly, Ari buckled on her belt and licked her thumb, pressing it in turn to the screwdriver and wrench that were laid out on the table. The handles turned blue obediently and she tucked them into the leather belt.

  She wished Stubbins was here to tell her exactly what to do or at least show her the kite that had been sent in describing the exact problem. But then, remembering the herky-jerky motion of the arms as they slopped food all over the place at mealtimes, she realized she didn’t really need specifications. The arms just needed a tune-up and she could probably get it done in time to go back to the hole and see Jak some more.

  As she made her way to the kitchen, she wished she could tell Lathe about her big brother. But that might bring up the reason why she was here herself…and how she had gotten here…and all kinds of other questions she would rather not answer. So for now, at least, Ari was keeping Jak to herself.

  In fact, she was keeping most everything to herself today. She and Lathe had barely spoken and he had made no comment when she’d decided to take a sponge bath in the sink rather than going to the trustee showers with him. He had been similarly quiet at breakfast, lunch, and in the Rec Yard.

  The silence between them hurt Ari’s heart but she recognized that it was necessary. If she started trying to get Lathe to talk to her she might say more than she should. So it was better to let a barrier grow between them even though it made her feel isolated and sad.

  Walking through the vast Mess Hall, she noticed how strangely quiet it was when it was empty. At meal times the inmate’s voices boomed and bounced off the metal walls, making it almost unbearably loud. Now the silence felt unnatural and stiff…waiting somehow.

  Stop it, Ari, she told herself, trying to shake off the weird feeling the eerie quiet in the Mess Hall gave her. Stop letting your imagination run away with you. Just get this job done so you can go back to the hole and see Jak.

  At least she knew her big brother had someone to talk to while he waited for her. Despite the hybrid’s frightening rap sheet and scary appearance, Jak was apparently, if not friends with the Beast—or Slade, as he called him—at least willing to talk to him. Ari had talked to the man a bit herself and though she wouldn’t have wanted to be alone in a room with him, he was a personable-enough conversationalist. Then again, sociopaths usually were personable, she reminded herself with a shiver. It was part of the way they lured their victims to them.

  She wondered again about the Beast’s true crimes. He claimed murder and arson readily—“Fuck yeah—killed my old master and burned down his house and I’d do it again. He wasn’t exactly kind to his slaves, if you know what I mean.”—but he was adamant that he was not a rapist. “The Mistress who bought me after I killed my old master hung that charge on me because I wouldn’t fuck her. She knew it was a one-way ticket to prison and that’s where they sent me.”

  Ari wasn’t sure if she believed him or not but it was certainly a colorful story.

  With a sigh, she went to the chow