Raven

Chapter 12

TWELVE

"You need to go and get her. Stop the car. Stop the fucking car," I roared. My voice was desperate, my mind racing. The silver cuffs bit into my wrists, searing pain through me, but it was nothing compared to my need to protect her. I pushed against the restraints, tried to batter the door open with sheer will.

"You wanna keep pushing, fella?" the officer taunted from the front seat.

I strained against the bonds, trying to see Tia, but the window only revealed blurred shadows and chaos. "Just go and get her. Don't leave her there," I pleaded, my voice thick with the primal growl of my panther.

The officer driving caught my eyes in the rearview mirror, his smirk a slash across his face, but he said nothing.

"Come on. Stop and go back." I hit the back of the seat hard, my position behind the empty passenger seat giving me a useless vantage point.

"Calm the fuck down." His order left no room for negotiation. Something hard struck me in the stomach, folding me over with a grunt. "Now pack it the fuck in, alright?"

They escorted me to the Human cells, situated right in the heart of the town, deep within the Human-only area. This was a calculated move, a twisted game of cat and mouse where the predator wasn't the one with the upper hand. When I was released, I'd be in forbidden territory, easy prey for them to recapture and haul back in.

We pulled up, and the officer who'd been my silent companion stepped out and circled to my door. "Give us one bit of shit, and we'll throw you in the silver cell. Do you understand me?"

Defiance blazed within me. I wanted to rush back and ensure Tia was safe. I ground my jaw, swallowed my fury, and nodded silently.

"Good. Hold your hands out. Try anything, and my buddy here will knock you the fuck out," the driver said as he joined us. I held out my cuffed hands, which they refused to free. Instead, they adjusted the chains, adding another segment that transformed them into a cruel handle and lead. He fetched more cuffs from the car boot and fastened them around my ankles, connecting my hands and feet with a single chain. "Now. Walk. Follow the yellow line."

The yellow line was a glaring strip of paint that led down some steps and into the building. I followed it, shuffling as best I could with the chains binding me. They ushered me through the door and down a corridor. I didn’t note how many doors we passed—too many, all locking behind me—until we reached a brightly lit room. Inside, one officer sat behind an oversized, round desk, while another monitored the screens while munching on a sandwich.

"Got another one for you," my escort announced, dropping a sheet on the desk. Earl, as his name tag declared, glanced at the list, then at me, and nodded. "Leave him with me. You on all night?"

"Till six," he replied, eyeing me up and down before chuckling. "Good luck with this one."

He sauntered back out, swiping a keycard to open the door, and didn't look back as it closed behind him.

"Please," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "someone needs to go and pick up my girlfriend. They left her at the cafe."

I pushed forward, not to attack but to emphasise my plea. The silver at my wrists seared my skin, and my panther roared in frustration.

"You think you get to give orders here?" Earl said, settling back into his chair, forcing himself to look up at me.

"No, I'm just asking. Someone needs to?—"

He leant back, amusement lighting his eyes. "Oh, someone needs?" He gestured at the man at the other desk. "Hear this, Jake? He thinks someone needs to do something for him."

Jake turned in his seat, grinning, a pencil tucked behind his ear. "Isn't that wonderful? Should we send a special unit? Use some government money for you? This isn't the Hilton. We don't do room service here."

"You heard him. No services here," Earl echoed mockingly.

"I'm not asking for a service, just for someone to check on her. She's a young girl. I thought you had a duty to protect," I said, the images of what those Humans could have been doing to her haunting my every thought.

Both men laughed at my anguish. I didn’t care about their mockery as long as they took action. But they didn’t.

"Stand the fuck back and shut your mouth," Earl barked.

If she gets hurt, if they—," I started, but Earl cut me off.

"If they do, then we'll be one less bitch to deal with," he interrupted, his eyes gleaming coldly. "Besides, you never know. They might do you a favour, show her what a real man is like since you obviously aren't satisfying her. Now, get against the wall and stay there until I call you for processing."

"How long will that be?"

He lifted his paper to show me the crossword puzzle he had begun, with only three words filled in. "When I'm damn well ready. This is your last warning. Get over by the wall. I don’t want to hear another word from you. You so much as breathe wrong over there, and I'll throw you in the silver cage. Do you understand?"

Grinding my jaw, I met his gaze—they weren’t going to help. All I could do was pray that Tia was okay. She had to be. If she wasn't ... I didn't even want to think about it. I would hunt those Humans down myself. They would only hurt her once, but I'd ensure they regretted every second of it.

Earl raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanging.

I shuffled back, the chains clinking with each step, the burning sensation growing with each movement. I didn’t need directions; the place I was meant to stand was clearly marked. The sign read 'Filth', a cruel label for the spot devoid of any comfort. The floor bore scars where a bench might once have been, but now, only an overflowing bin and its spilt contents kept me company.

I had no idea how long I stood there; with no clock or windows, time seemed to stretch into hours. If I didn't move too much, or breathe too deeply, the silver cuffs around my wrists and ankles didn’t shift so much, and then the pain wasn't so bad. It didn't feel like I was shaking up a horde of hungry little fire ants against my skin. Because that was how the silver felt. Ants, with a million teeth to bite against me.

The door I had been brought through opened, and a different officer than the one who had escorted me came through with a human. He was so drunk he could barely stand, but that didn't stop him from turning to me and scowling as the officer booked him. "Fucking scum," he spat at me. His aim was off, and I dodged, but that caused the silver to lance against my sores. I gritted my teeth and snarled.

"Now, now, Deek. Don't go antagonising the vermin," the officer warned.

"They should be put to death at birth," Deek retorted. "All of them. It ain't right, none of it."

Earl, busy filling in his paperwork, didn't look up. "Oh, I agree with you there. But we can't, so it doesn't matter. Now, what have you been doing? Did Rosie kick you out again?"

"Rosie's here. Thomas took her down to the women's section. Caught the two of them fucking on a bench on the beach."

"Seriously?" Earl shook his head. "Stick him in three. It's clean. He can sleep it off there, and we'll talk about this tomorrow."

"Can I get a sandwich? Ham and cheese?" Deek slurred, his voice wobbling between demanding and pathetic.

"Well, listen to this. Aren't they all just making their demands tonight? Him with his patrol issues, and you with your sandwich," Earl mocked.

"I'm starving. I was about to grab a kebab when this fucker grabbed me," Deek complained, his words slurred and clumsy.

Earl tossed his paperwork into a tray. "I'll get your sandwich sent down, but don't give me any shit tonight, I swear to God. One peep out of you, and I'll put the big guy in with you. Maybe he'll give you a blow job of his own, eh?"

They pushed Deek to stand close to me. He wasn't so close that I could reach him, but there was little I could do. His cuffs had been removed.

He stepped closer. "What the fuck are you looking at?" Deek tried to provoke me, acting tough because I was chained up. I let my top lip curl back, just enough to let him see the tips of my panther’s teeth. I couldn't fully shift, but I could show enough to make a point. "Back off."

"Are you going to be a problem?" Earl sneered at me, his voice laden with challenge. "Here." He tossed a Styrofoam cup at me with a smirk. It hit me in the chest, splashing the remnants of its contents across my shirt before landing at my feet. He waited, eyes narrowed, observing my every move. Deek watched with a cruel amusement in his gaze.

I ground my jaw and picked up the cup, my movements stiff with restrained fury.

Deek laughed mockingly. "That's it, fucker. You're our little janitor now. Oh, wait, wait," he sneered, pausing for effect. "I gotta take a piss." No one stopped him as he clumsily unzipped his pants and exposed himself, aiming right at my feet and urinating with a disgusting grin.

I snarled, the primal side of me, my panther, slamming against my control. Perhaps too forcefully, as the collar around my neck tightened, and I choked out a gasp, dropping to my knees. I couldn’t even claw at the collar to gain some relief. My reaction only fuelled their laughter, their mockery echoing off the cold, uncaring walls.

They escorted him out shortly after. He wasn't the only human to parade through there that night, but he was the only one who dared to provoke me to that extent. I remained standing for what felt like an eternity, as one human after another was brought in.

"Are you just going to leave me here?" I asked, my voice a low growl of desperation.

Earl ignored me.

I took a deep, ragged breath. "I have rights, you know. No matter what you believe."

That got his attention, but only momentarily. He looked at me, his expression unreadable, then raised an eyebrow and stared. "I believe you forfeited your rights when you decided to assault some poor kids. Now, I told you. Silence. I'm not finished yet." He lounged back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankles, feet propped up on his desk, embodying the arrogance of unchecked power.

By the time Earl finally decided to deal with me, my legs ached, my ankles and wrists burnt unbearably. The pain seared up my arms and into my shoulders—an army of fiery ants burrowing into my very bones.

When he came for me, he didn’t bother to remove the cuffs. Instead, he yanked on the chain that connected them, pulling it so tight it cut into my flesh even more. I hissed in pain, and Earl laughed.

"Stand there. Make one move, and I'll make sure you'll wish it was only your wrists that hurt."

He positioned me in front of the desk where he'd been working and walked around to the other side, where he sat down and began pulling up my information on the screen. With just two clicks, he deleted it. "Name," he demanded, his voice cold.

"You had my name. It was right there."

His glare intensified. "Sure, it was, and now it's gone. Name. Or would you prefer to stand back over there until I'm ready to deal with this? Because you're really testing my patience."

I ground my jaw, which seemed to be the only thing I'd been doing all night, and gave him my name, followed by everything they had already filled in when I first came in.

"There," he said, his eyebrow arching. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"It was totally unnecessary."

"Sure, like all of your kind," he muttered, standing up. He opened a cabinet behind him that resembled those in hotels with room keys. "You're in luck. You get room six."

"Jake?" Earl called out.

Jake glanced up from his screen, where he was munching on a packet of crisps now, part of a stack they’d brought in for everyone else but me.

"Get someone else to handle him. I'm not dealing with that mess," Jake said, his voice cold and dismissive.

"I don't need you to handle him. Just watch the desk for me, idiot," Earl snapped. He grabbed my chain, yanking it so hard that pain shot through me like ice picks, threatening to tear apart my soul. I nearly passed out from the pain.

He didn't give me a chance to recover, or catch my breath. He led me out of the room where I'd been standing for hours, through a door, and down a corridor that descended into darkness. The steps were damp and shadowy, more like descending into a basement than a cell block. I liked the smell—damp and earthy. It reminded me of running through the mud and water on dark, rainy nights. It felt like home. The smell in that basement was strangely comforting, speaking to a deep part of me.

We reached the door at the end, and he unlocked it. Then we moved to the end where there was a typical cell door—bars and a large lock. The gate squealed open when he pulled it. "Get in," he ordered.

I complied. He shut the gate and locked it, stepping back as if I might attack him.

"You so much as make a sound down here ..." He paused, then laughed. "Actually, make as much noise as you like. No one can hear you."

The small room beyond the gate was my cell. It was the smallest, dingiest thing I had ever seen, and that wasn't an accident. They had reserved it for my kind. The walls bore stains of substances I didn't want to guess at, with marks across the floor. In the corner was an old, brown-looking mattress, wet and damp, with black mould growing on it. There was a bowl on a tray, filled with something so rotted that maggots were having a feast, and next to that was a small plastic cup, so black inside I couldn't tell if it was the design or the mould.

"If you want food and water, put the containers through this hatch," he instructed, pointing to a small opening. I had no intention of using it. "We'll refill it twice a day. Don’t eat it? Not our problem. We won't make you. We don't care if you want to starve." He glanced at his watch and shrugged. "Looks like you missed breakfast, though. Too bad."

He looked at me like he was daring me to say or do something, fully aware that I couldn't. The chains and the collar around my neck limited my movements, fuelling his boldness. Out in the open, things would be different. Despite the myriad of laws that shackled us and their penchant for pushing boundaries, most of them were all bravado and cruelty. But underneath, the humans were cowards.

I stayed motionless, denying him the satisfaction. He stared at me for a long, tense moment, said nothing, and then turned on his heel and left.

When he closed the door at the end of the corridor, I didn't sit on the filthy mattress. Instead, I leant against the wall, crouching slightly. I rolled my shoulders to relieve the ache and closed my eyes, trying not to think about Tia—where she might be, what might have happened to her.

It was useless, though. Intrusive thoughts invaded my mind, each more tormenting than the last. All I could do was hope that she was safe, perhaps back in her flat or attending class.

Time was a blur; it felt like morning, but the lack of windows left me guessing.

I stayed against that wall for what felt like an eternity, the pain in my back seeping into every bone. This was just another layer of agony—my wrists burnt, my ankles throbbed. There was nothing to do but endure. Eventually, the pain became as much a part of me as my own breath. I barely lifted my head when the door at the end of the corridor opened and footsteps approached. But then a familiar scent reached me ...

Malcolm?

Instinctively, I tried to stand, but my body protested violently, and I had to lean heavily against the wall for support. The chains bit into my flesh, sending waves of pain through me. "Shit," I hissed, staggering toward the gate and grasping the bars for support. Now I understood why this gesture was so iconic in the movies. "Oh, god," I gasped, sucking in a deep breath.

My body trembled, and I squinted into the darkness. My throat was so dry that when I tried to speak, no sound emerged.

Malcolm handed me a bottle of water through the bars. It was warm, but I didn't care. I uncapped it and drank greedily.

"What's going on?" Malcolm asked, his voice calm and steady as he stood on the other side of the gate. Meanwhile, I was on the edge of breaking down.

"Please," I gasped, my voice desperate. "You have to find her. Make sure she's okay," I pleaded. The dam inside me broke as my panther surged, driven by the need to ensure the woman who might one day be his mate was safe. "Please," I rubbed my face, trying to bring both hands up despite the chains. "The humans attacked us. They left her there, with them. Please, just check she's okay. Get someone to check."

He didn't move, just watched me with that alpha control that kept him still. This was why he was the alpha—because he had that calm. He wasn't just a tiger who could bide his time; he was a man of keen control and natural authority, even now, when my own cat wasn't following my logical brain's commands. My panther was pushing, begging, taking over, losing all sense of logic.

He sighed. "The courts have said you're free to go, but first, we need to talk," he finally spoke.

I blinked, stopped, almost tripped over my own thoughts. "What? I'm ..."

He held up a hand. "It isn't so simple." He pulled out a sheet of paper from inside his jacket and read the charges against me. "Assault, battery?—"

"Assault? I never touched any of them," I protested.

"Damage to property, disorderly behaviour, endangerment, theft."

"Theft? No. What the hell. I didn’t steal a damn thing. Please ..."

There was a look in his eyes, a blend of caring, concern, and power that all merged into one, and I felt his true power, the power that made him the alpha. He might have been the alpha of the tigers, but with his dominance over all Others in society, he could control us. I felt him inside my head, not to read my thoughts or spy—I wasn’t even sure he could do that—but he pushed at the barriers of my mind and reached for my panther, taming him, calming him. I leant my head against the bars and breathed deeply.

"I'm sorry."

"They’ve got you on almost fifteen charges. Some will stick; others are flimsy."

When I lifted my gaze to meet his, his eyes were so bright in colour, he could pass for a half-breed, though they didn’t have that tricolour hue. Half-breeds were rare; I’d seen two in the underground in my life. Both gone now.

"I didn't do any of what they're claiming. We were in a cafe, and some human guys came in and started trouble. The owner asked them to leave."

"They started on you for no reason?" he pressed.

I wanted to say yes, but he’d know. "I’d fought with them some weeks ago at the back of Spy Glass. They’d been trying to force themselves on Tia, and I defended her. They ran off. Then they saw us tonight."

Malcolm nodded. "Well, none of that matters now. This is what they have on you."

"Can’t you do something?" I wanted to say, ' You’re the alpha, ' but that was disrespectful. He could easily have walked right out of here, and me getting to Tia would be a 'one day, someday' thing. I wasn't sure my panther and I had the patience to wait.

"This is something. They had a lot more on here, including trying to get you for attempted murder."

"What? No ..." As I moved, pain shot through me, the chains reminding me they were there. I had to catch my breath, pant, and let the pain wash through my body. It wasn't as bad, though. Maybe that was Malcolm doing that. "Get the CCTV. You'll see it there."

"CCTV didn’t record. A malfunction with the system."

"Malfunction. No. That’s bullshit and you know it."

"It doesn’t matter what I know, or even what you know. What matters is what this says. I got the charges down and that’s about as far as I could get them. Believe me, this is you getting off easy. Now, I don’t know what went on this evening, and really, it won’t matter. They have witnesses, and unless you can get someone of moral standing to corroborate your side of things, there is little we can do about it." I was about to protest, but he raised his hand to silence me. "It is what it is, Raven. Take this. Don’t push it."

I bit my bottom lip, head down again, and nodded. "Does my mother know?" Then I paused, looked at him again. "How did you know I was here?"

"I had to sign the forms that came through for a court appearance at the DSA. It was sent to me because you were being held here, and no representative."

DSA was the Department of Supernatural Affairs, which was the governing body for anyone not human. They dealt with everything and had a subsection for all: DSA police, DSA medical, DSA taxes. Anything that was legal and governed was run by them in one way or another.

"You said I am free to go."

"With conditions. They’ve fined you the sum of ten thousand pounds."

I let out a breath. "Ten thousand. I don't have that kind of money." I didn't need to total up what I did have. That figure was far out of my reach. In my bank, I had thousands, but not that much. Not even close. My mother had a little. We lived low and below our means, but that much? Even if we did have it, it would wipe us out. It'd wipe my mother out. "I don't have any way of getting that kind of money."

"I know. I could loan it to you, but there would be a paper trail and they'd deem it biassed."

"Can I work it off? Pay it off in part?" My mind raced with it, but I didn't have a clue. Even paying it off a little at a time, it'd cost me so much more.

"If you even try to pay it off, the interest alone would cripple you." Because that would be how they got me. Keep me in debt, never free of them. But there was something else. I could see it in the way Malcolm was looking at me.

"There's something else?"

"You're only seventeen, so you're classed as a minor. They've given you until your eighteenth to pay it off."

"That's in three weeks."

"But you'll be an adult then. A man." Malcolm heaved in his own breath and for a moment, he looked behind me to the room, my cell. He didn't say anything about it, or all the mess in there. Why would he? But it was probably a distraction for him, a way to gather his thoughts, maybe. Not that I ever imagined Malcolm Davies needed to gather anything. "Your mother came to me a week or so ago. She's concerned about you."

"She's my mother. She's concerned about everything."

"Sure, and as your parent, that is her right. Don't scoff at that, Raven. Not everyone has a parent who cares."

I wanted to sneer, to chide about it because sometimes, that care of hers didn’t seem so caring. It was control and oppression. It was ... I didn’t even know what it was. All my seventeen-year-old brain knew was that I wanted to do things, to live my life, and the main wall I kept hitting, above everything else, was my mother. I knew that she’d had some bad times. I got that, even if she didn’t talk to me about them. But the past couldn’t dictate our future—my future.

Except this. When she finds out about this, I'll be locked up, and I'll never see the light of day again—not as punishment, but because this would be a lesson she'd try to teach me. She'd tell me this is exactly why I should keep to myself, stay out of everyone's way, and focus on my work and studies only.

"I know she cares." I had never doubted that, but I didn't raise it. It wasn't the time or the place, and he wasn't the right audience. Getting through to my mother was the real issue.

"None of this is like you. When I came in, I asked what was going on, and I mean it. Not just here, in this cell," he gestured around to emphasise, "but all of it. This girl. Your studies. Your work."

"I—"

"No. Your scores at college have dropped, and I know you're going to tell me they're still in the range you need and you're not failing, but you used to hit higher than you are at the moment. Consistently. Honestly, I wish my own son would knuckle down the way you do, but he tells me he passes too. So do you. But there might come a time when you don't. When you look back and wonder why the hell you threw this all away. You've missed the odd class too, which is not like you either. Don't throw your future away on a girl, Raven. It would be the most stupid thing you'd ever done."

"What if she's my mate?"

"What if she isn't?"

My panther wanted to roar at that, and I knew he felt it because I felt the control clamp down on me like an iron fist in the gut. It winded me, left me panting. "I don't know. You're right, she might not be. But I don't know if you've noticed, but there aren't a whole lot of panthers in this area." My words were thick, heavy with the growl just under the surface of them. I wasn't keeping control of my cat, and he knew that. I was young, and that was part of the problem, but getting in the way of a shifter and their mate, or their cubs, or all the other things our animals deemed important, was like playing with fire. It was only because this was Malcolm that my cat bowed and did not fight. "If I am to be mated by the time I am thirty, as per your rules, then I have to take every chance I get, right?"

It wasn't Malcolm's law, at least I didn't think it was. Part of the Society wasn't just to protect all that were in it but to maintain it. Humans wanted us all dead. Their idea was that the fewer we bred, the better, because maybe then we'd die out. But the Society fought for us to continue. We mated, but it was only when agreed upon by the leaders. Viable mates had to have the potential to procreate. An infertile society member was useless.

"When your mother came to me, we discussed your future. It's not just your scores that she's worried about, it's you in general. She asked me to procure you a spot on the Sentinel team. Recruit level."

My veins went cold. I swallowed against the constriction in my throat and met Malcolm's gaze head-on. His eyes had lost that half-breed cast, but they were still bright. I could see the tiger roaming behind them. "She knows about Tia?" Because that would be the only reason my mother would want to sign me up for Society's army. As a sentinel, I'd be sent out, commissioned to places. Malcolm's team of elites.

"No, but she isn't a stupid woman. She's worried."

"She's worried she'll lose control, you mean." I didn't take the bite out of my words. I meant every last one of them.

"I have a spot for you. I can sponsor you with that. The laws allow it. It'll mean you get your first year's salary up front."

I ground my jaw. Said nothing as he talked. Because that was why some joined. It was how they got into Society. They could join the ranks, usually at lower levels, prove their allegiance, and also get their salary for the year, which paid their Society fees.

"You get just over thirteen thousand in your training year. Your fine is ten."

I gripped the bar and didn't give one shit about the pain in my wrist by then. In all honesty, it was just a pain I was used to. It seared up my arms, my veins, and into my shoulders. Everything just felt stiff. "That's convenient."

"It is what it is. You don't have to take it. You've got three weeks to pay off this debt, and then you know how it works."

Yes. I did. I'd be out of Society. So would my mother. Shamed and removed. We weren't important enough to be hunted—it isn't like we were royalty, but still ... the world out there was a cold, hard place, and not many survived. We'd not even be able to go to the underground, not this one at least. I'm sure there were many others, but we'd not be welcome. This wasn't Malcolm's rule, though. This was the laws that had been set down long before he took that seat.

Malcolm took the key out of his pocket. The one Earl had had, and he slipped it into the lock. I pushed the gate open. He didn't need to ask me to hold out my hands. I just did, and he unlocked the cuffs. He gave me the key for me to do my ankles. The alpha bows to no one, in no circumstances. He unclipped the collar. "We have twenty minutes left to get out of the centre and back home. I will drive you myself. You are not to go to that cafe. You are not to go there to find Tia, do you understand me?"

"They left her there," and he'd read my mind and knew exactly where I'd be heading.

"She won't be there now. Only trouble, and you have enough of that. You go home and you stay there. Tomorrow, you go to your classes." I took a step out of the cell, every nerve in my body feeling on fire, my panther pushing at me, but Malcolm didn't move. "That spot will be open for you until your birthday. Don't be a fool and avoid this debt. If you can’t clear it, you come to me and join my ranks."

"But that'll mean leaving every single thing in my life. Everything ..."

"Yes. And sometimes the prices we pay for things are higher than we ever imagined. Sometimes, it’s the only way we can survive."