Chapter 17 Zack #2
I drift into a light doze, warm and comfortable but interrupted by the bouncing ball.
Even that annoyance is welcome after the bitter silence.
At some point, Al stops playing, and the loud buzzer signaling time changes in the prison jolts me awake from a deeper sleep. The cell door clicks, unlocking.
“Time to go,” Al says as I climb down, rubbing my drooping eyes. “Let’s visit the library before lunch and see if they have any children’s books.”
“Hungry,” I mutter as I trail after him, joining the lines of alphas headed down the stairs. Can’t tell when I last ate.
As we reach the bottom of the stairs, something hooks into my alpha senses, and I stiffen and turn, searching the room. A tall, shaved alpha with one weird ear sits at a table, posture arrogant and the sleeves of his regular white shirt rolled up. He stares at me.
My lip lifts automatically with a challenging snarl. I’ve seen him before, in Cal-ee’s place with all the tall windows and rows of chairs.
“What you stopping for?” Al grumbles, shoving my back.
“Alpha. Challenge.” The man across from me smells bitter in a dark, spicy way, and his eyes narrow on me. Assessing.
“No challenges today, big guy,” Al says.
“You want to end up straight back in solitary? At least meet with Callisto before that happens.” He swings around to follow my gaze and hisses.
“Fuck me sideways. Is that the Laversham Tax Collector? Zack, if that’s who I think it is, you don’t want to mess with him. ”
“Not strong,” I mutter sullenly. Not as strong as me, my senses shout.
“No, but well-connected. Look at him. No bruises, no dark lines under his eyes. He’s living like a prince in a prison, not even required to wear a uniform.
That means he’s greasing palms left, right, and center.
People here will do anything he says.” Al shudders and tugs on me.
“Come on. We won’t take long,” he promises.
I grumble as he tows me past the eating area, which fills with the aroma of food.
Alphas in the same orange clothing as us mill on the far side of the serving bench, inside the kitchen, many throwing quick glances at the arrogant alpha.
The newcomer really dresses differently from us and the guards didn’t shave his head.
He holds my gaze for a moment, and I growl, hands clenching in readiness. But the familiar-looking alpha drops his gaze and spins away, and the threat fades like it never existed. I trail after Al, settling down to a faint rumble.
Movement in the kitchen distracts me. “Alphas cook?” I muse.
“Yes. Anyone can learn to cook.” Al chuckles and turns down a hallway I’ve never been to before. “And it creates cheap labor for Alpha Lodgings. The prison, I mean.”
I nod, tumbling the thought over. White Mine cooks, but he’s different. He’s magical. I’ve never considered making food for myself, but if the alphas here do, maybe I could learn. I did learn how to pour cereal into my bowl.
Al pushes through a doorway into a room that smells a bit like Cal-ee.
Wooden shelves line the walls, filled with books and glossy picture pages, like the ones Ri-ckon and Red like to look at.
I shuffle through a pile, but most of them are full of pictures of wheeled vehicles and triangle canvas sheets spread under trees. Then, on one side, I spy what I want.
“Ohm-ga!” I cry, holding Red’s picture up. I rumble as I notice the alpha next to her, the one she acts with but doesn’t like. I don’t like him either. “Acting,” I mutter darkly, running my finger along the page to draw a line between them.
Al wanders over. “Oh, yeah, she’s some hot new actress.”
I smile as I trace her flattened cheeks. “Mine.”
Al laughs. “Now I know you’re making shit up. Just give me a minute here.”
His tone irritates me, and I snarl at his back. “Red, Mine.”
He snorts. “Your omega would cry if she heard you claiming some other woman. Now be quiet and let me concentrate here.” The bald alpha goes back to sorting through books on the shelves.
My stomach pinches, squiggling with hunger. I tuck the pages under my arm and head back out through the door. Let Al flip through paper on his own; I’m starving.
The hallway branches, and I come to a halt as I find myself in an unfamiliar place. I’m certain we didn’t come this way. My senses prickle as a collection of scents gathers in a cloud, growing stronger every moment. I spin and find my exit blocked by over five alphas.
“So, someone finally let the dog out,” one man crows, tapping a bulky fist to his open palm. “You got lucky being thrown into solitary for three days, but now your luck’s run out.”
They all step forward, and I hiss, swinging side to side to get a lay of the narrow space. The alphas march toward me, auras rising with challenge.
The blond one laughs. “Little advice for you, Jones. Just lie down and take a beating, and you might survive this, bitch.”
I squeeze my hands into fists and lift them in front of me. Around us, the air thickens with alpha scent. This is definitely a challenge. I drop the picture pages of Red on the floor and bounce on my toes, growling in answer. One alpha or more than five, I’ll accept any challenge.
And they come in a rush of alpha domination.
Over the charging pack’s shoulder, I spy the newcomer in the white shirt. He hangs back, but his mouth turns up in a smile full of death.