7. Quin
I carry my laden tray over to one of the tables and take a seat, sensing Simon following close behind me. He sets his tray down next to mine and sits beside me, staring at me, a puzzled expression on his face.
“What?” I ask, feeling a bit self-conscious over his examination of me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Simon cuts a slice off his roast, groaning with appreciation as the succulent meat hits his taste buds. He chews slowly, savoring the flavor before he responds.
“I just don’t get how you can look half-starved if they’re feeding you like this. I mean, from the state of you I would’ve expected watered down gruel or half-rancid scraps, but this is pretty fucking good food, man.”
He forks another mouthful of meat onto his tongue before digging into his vegetables. I smile sadly and shake my head as I slowly take a bite of my baked potato, working my way steadily through each of the foods until nothing is left on the tray, not even the juices from the meat. Those I soak up with the bread. Simon watches me as I eat, demolishing his own serving a lot faster than me, but that’s to be expected. His stomach hasn’t shrunk yet, but it will.
I finally tell him the truth of the situation, knowing that the information I’m about to impart is going to tarnish the enjoyment he’s just experienced. I gesture toward his smoothie, sucking down a mouthful of my own before I speak.
“Try that.”
Simon looks at me askance but does as I suggest. I see the moment the taste and texture registers, his nose wrinkling in distaste at the bitter, chalky drink.
“That is what they usually serve us every day. Morning, noon, and night, we get a smoothie. It’s packed full of protein, vitamins, and other nutrients necessary to keep us relatively healthy. The type of meal we’ve just had? They only serve that for one of two reasons—either as a weekly reward for good behavior, or outside of that, to bulk us up in preparation for experimentation. They don’t provide much in medical care here; they simply leave it up to our animals. You’ve just come back from the chop shop, so they’re gonna feed you to appease your lion. They won’t feed you like that on a regular basis. They don’t want you fighting back or escaping, after all.”
Simon’s eyes widen and he drops his gaze to his tray, his throat working as his new reality hits him. Despite his lingering injuries, Simon looks well fed, healthy, and strong. I don’t have the heart to tell him that he’s likely going to be used as a punching bag for the guards here while they starve him and his lion of their strength.
A dull thud from the other end of the dining hall echoes in the quiet, and Simon and I both turn toward the disruption. A weight falls from my shoulders as I spy Nick and Luc shuffling into the room, but my relief is short-lived.
They both look shell-shocked, even more so than usual. They clutch at each other as if they’re the only person keeping the other one sane, and their movements are stiff and awkward. Simon and I sit in silence as they shuffle over to the kitchen window and collect their own trays, waiting for them to join us. Luc turns first and balks, hesitating for a moment as he looks at Simon. Something unspoken passes between the two of them, and Luc slowly shambles over to our table, Nick in tow.
I don’t speak until the two men have gingerly taken their seats. My voice is low and full of concern, but I don’t want to draw more attention to our conversation than necessary. I’ve got no doubt we’re being watched by both guards and cameras, because Heaven forbid, we be treated with dignity or respect, or given any semblance of privacy. We’re nothing more than lab rats in a maze to the acolytes of Vieux Sang, and I know it more than most.
“Luc, Nick… fuck, am I glad to see you both still alive. What the fuck has been going on?”
Luc darts a glance over at Simon, and once again something passes between them. I’m confused, and honestly a little bit hurt. The others never used to hold anything back from me, and now it feels like they’re keeping secrets.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Luc’s voice is barely above a whisper, broken and dull. Nothing like the lively, jokester shifter I’ve known all these years.
“Uh, okay. This is Simon Gatto. Simon’s a lion—”
“I’m an Altered shifter. My lion’s name is Tálstrom.” Simon interjects, and I smile weakly at him. I’m the only Mundane shifter at the table, and it makes me feel even more the outsider.
“Simon, this is Lucas Bowen and Nicholas Cassidy.” I gesture to each of my friends as I say their names. “I’ll let them tell you about their animals when they’re ready.” I dart my gaze around to make sure that our guards aren’t in hearing range and drop my voice to a low murmur. I don’t want unwanted ears listening in to this next part, and while the cameras have audio, I know the sound quality is shit. They’re mostly there to keep an eye on us.
“Luc, Nick, Simon knows Aodhán. He’s seen him, is friends with him. Aodhán is okay, he got out.”
I can taste the relief pouring off Luc and Nick, telling me they’ve been just as frantic over Aodhán”s status as me. The three of them were already here and had well-established friendships by the time I arrived, but even so, they never excluded me. After my parents’ betrayal, they became my family, and I know they’d say the same thing about Aodhán and me in return.
“You were in the room with us. You stopped them. Thank you.” Luc’s gaze is steady on Simon’s face, but his expression and voice are so saturated with both pain and gratitude that it breaks my heart. I’m unsure if I want to know the details of how they all met, but whatever it was that Simon did, he now has a friend in Luc for life.