Chapter 18
SIN
Karma and I left the cell completely alone in the morning—when it came to leverage on the Redgraves, we couldn’t even trust the Emerald pack not to turn on us.
The key to the contraband room was my biggest piece of leverage—a secret I would have left the Emerald pack with if not for its ability to save Crescent.
I didn’t keep it in our cell because that was asking for trouble.
Besides, there were thousands of nooks and crannies in this stone prison.
Tons of junk rooms and empty rooms full of trash that not even the most desperate prisoner would want anymore.
Cells with leaks that alphas would only use if Anarchy was at full capacity—which it never was.
But now I needed to pick it up from its hiding place.
A spot I never checked on, because checking on it would be riskier than leaving it the fuck alone.
If it was gone… Well, we were screwed.
It should be there, though. I’d hidden it well.
I kept close to Karma. Stalking the halls as a duo was a risk even if no one wanted to kill us, but it was practically begging for death as Anarchy target number one.
But bringing Crescent would have made us too conspicuous, and we sure as fuck weren’t leaving her alone with anyone else.
I always kept my gun on me, but today I was far more aware of the cool metal that I was keeping tucked against my waist right now. I usually kept it here, or in my ankle holster, but it was always on me.
Hopefully I wouldn’t need it. Most of the alphas here knew I had it now, but the feral ones—all they saw was prey wandering these halls with only one alpha at his side for protection.
We walked quickly, but tried to look leisurely at the same time. No one passed us in the hall, but you never knew who could be watching from their cell.
I was about to steer us down a side hallway to avoid going out into the main square when footsteps padded closer.
I listened intently.
One set of footsteps. They sounded uneven, as if the person had a limp, but not urgent or shuffling, like some of the truly feral alphas that skulked down lonely hallways.
And it was only one person.
Someone confident enough to walk around alone… That was a very limited subset of people. None of whom we wanted to see right now.
Fuck me.
Karma stepped in front of me, puffing out his chest and letting his aura out a little in threat.
When the person turned the corner, he relaxed.
Huh?
Ozias strode down the wide hallway toward us, his hands stuffed into his pockets. I noticed he was limping. I grabbed Karma’s arm and tried to steer him away from his rut fight rival, but he shook me off.
Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a bottle of pills and tossed them to Ozias when he got close. Ozias caught it midair, giving it a quick shake and then popping the top to check the inside.
“Better not have kept any for yourself,” he commented.
I expected Karma to prickle and maybe lunge for the bastard, but he only scoffed. “When I got ‘em, that’s what was in there. Haven’t touched it.”
Ozias put the bottle in his pocket, the bulge of it barely visible in his oversized sweats. “Deal’s done, then.” He gave me a once over glance, then scanned Karma the same way. “Good luck out there. You’ll need it.”
As Karma’s growl echoed down the hall, Ozias veered off into a side hallway with a final, faint smirk.
I stepped into my packmate’s path to stop him from going after him, and herding him forward. We had to get the key, preferably before we ran into someone who wanted us dead.
“The fuck was that about?” I asked.
I took us down a side hallway and the walls closed in, becoming narrow enough that Karma and I couldn’t walk side-by-side anymore.
He fell into step behind me, grumbling. “Ran into him last night in the cafeteria. Figured we didn’t need the pills, so I traded.”
“For what?”
Ozias wouldn’t be a bad person to have on our side. His aura was one of the most formidable here. But Karma wasn’t a good enough negotiator to con anyone into trading protection for painkillers. Even I would struggle to do that.
“Coloured pencils and a sketchbook.”
I looked over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“I wanted something I could give Crescent. I’m drawing for her.”
Okay, that was admittedly sweet.
I might have to up my game on what I was giving Crescent, because Karma was an amazing artist. Our cell was testament to that.
Every once in a while one, of the packs would trade him something high value for Karma to paint a mural for them—but only the dweller packs could afford a luxury like art, so it didn’t happen often.
He didn’t give any more details as we walked, weaving through the side hallways that connected the wings. I felt his tension in the bond; in the crackling electricity of his aura in the air.
The sooner we got the key back to our cell, the better.
I drew to a stop in front of a rusty metal door. Its worn sign said ‘BOILER ROOM,’ but it hadn’t been that in a long time. This would have been a boiler room from a time before Anarchy was this big, before it took up the entire floor beneath the Cimmerian Vaults.
It had a different meaning to me, though.
Nightmare, and beginning.
Glancing both ways down the hall, I confirmed it was only me and Karma. Then I turned the rusted doorknob and let the door screech open.
“It would’ve been so much easier if you’d kept this thing in our fucking cell,” Karma muttered.
I didn’t grace that with a response.
He waited outside the door while I slipped into the room.
All the equipment was still in here, stripped bare of anything useful to prisoners. There were large pipes attached to the walls, ceiling, and floor, rusted and scratched. Dented and bent in places.
In the far corner, I crouched down to undo one of the connections and remove a stretch of pipe. Then I grabbed a piece of rebar from the floor and shoved it down until it reached a corner section, waiting for the clinking of the key against it.
My heart raced as the rebar only clanked against the pipe, its tone completely different than the high-pitched clink of keys.
I readjusted my grip, breathing heavily as my chest tightened.
No, they couldn’t be—
The rebar clinked against something.
I didn’t dare to relax until I’d worked the keyring back up the section of piping and fished it out with my fingers.
The key was bronze and triangular with a little metal ring attached. The teeth of it were worn-down and rounded, but it would still open the lock it was meant for with a bit of wiggling.
I put it in my pocket and set everything right before heading back out to Karma.
Now all we had to do was figure out how to prove to Dominic that I had the key without actually giving it to him.
And there was only one way I could see to do that:
Steal from the heavily-guarded contraband room.