Page 4 of Beg the Night (Mystics of Ashora #1)

FOUR

athena

T hree more days passed. At first, I spent every waking hour expecting Director or one of her lackeys to storm into this damn room and… I don’t know. Do something. I couldn’t believe the way they were pretending like we didn’t exist. They fed us, but barely. And Margaret and I were left to share meals because the men ate about ten times more than we did.

We were lucky they left us anything at all. If Margaret weren’t here, I would have starved by now. They seemed to have a basic level of respect for her that they did not have for me. I wasn’t sure why, but the more I learned about Margaret, the more I discovered that there was something special about her level of crazy.

It was growing on me.

Aside from chatting with my new companion, there was nothing to do but sit around and become very, very bored. I had been here for days. The others had been here for months—maybe years. How the hell had they not lost their minds? The only thing they did for fun was partake in the occasional fight, which typically ended in a pathetic brawl that had to be broken up when one of the guys got too aggressive.

I waited for someone to use their powers, but they never did. Not one of the guys tried to bust out or even wielded magic during a fight.

Margaret was right. The Ministry was nowhere to be seen. Yet they still held all the power.

“I’m your friend, and you’re my favorite person here, so I don’t want to hurt your feelings when I say this, but you stink. You need to shower and change into clean clothes, okay?”

I was shaking my head before she finished the sentence. “There is no way in hell I’m stripping naked only feet away from an entire dungeon full of men.”

“They aren’t going to hurt you. I shower all the time and they all leave me alone. They won’t even enter the bathroom when I’m there.”

The couple of times I forced myself to use the bathroom, I made Margaret come with me. Strength in numbers, right? Even though it only limited my privacy further.

Margaret seemed to understand. She was right, though. Every time she entered the bathroom, the men took notice and steered clear.

Again, there was some underlying respect I didn’t quite understand.

And I wasn’t confident they would extend me that same courtesy if she weren’t here.

So I’d deal with the smell of my own body odor. It beat risking a shower.

“I know you’re scared,” she said softly. She grabbed my hand and held it in both of hers. “I’ll wait outside the whole time, okay? You can’t expect to go the entire month without taking a shower.”

“Like hell I can’t.”

With a roll of her eyes, she stood. Then she tugged me up beside her. “Come on,” she whispered. “Everyone is sleeping, anyway. Now’s your chance.”

Every cell in my body told me this was a very, very bad idea. It wasn’t safe for me when I was fully clothed. Showering only left me more vulnerable.

It was different for Margaret.

But she seemed very confident that I’d be okay. And she was right about one thing. I did smell.

“Fine,” I whispered. “But you’re waiting outside the door. And if anyone comes in, you scream. Got it?”

A smile spread across her face. “Thank god. I wasn’t sure I could go one more night sleeping next to you like this.”

I shoved her lightly on the shoulder, and with a chuckle, she led the way to the showers. We stepped over sleeping bodies and silently crept our way to the back of the dungeon. The rusty metal toilets and sinks were to the right of the small opening in the corner, and the showers were to the left. We waited by the entrance for a few seconds, ensuring the rooms were empty, before slipping inside.

My heart pounded so hard, I thought my chest would burst open. But Margaret slipped her small hand into mine and pulled me forward. There were four or five showers, all separated by thick curtains, and my boots squelched on the wet dungeon floor as Margaret led me to the last makeshift stall.

“Let the water warm up for a few seconds before you step under the stream. Trust me, it gets cold.” She pointed to the far wall. “I’ll get a towel and some clean clothes from the supplies over there, okay? Then I’ll wait here.”

I nodded, still not totally convinced this was a good idea. I mean, I did possess basic survival instincts.

Or at least I thought I did.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Margaret.”

She held her little finger up in the space between us. “Pinkie promise.” With a wink, she moved to the surprisingly neat pile of supplies in the corner, where she rummaged for extra clothes. I stepped behind the curtain and yanked it shut, ensuring there weren’t any gaps in the thick fabric before I finally kicked my boots off.

My feet ached, and as I peeled off the socks that had practically bonded with my flesh, the blisters I’d developed from wearing my boots for days on end screamed at the sudden hit of fresh air. I bit my lip to keep from crying out in relief as my bare feet hit the cold dungeon floor.

I pulled my shirt off next, then folded the filthy fabric neatly and placed it on top of my boots. Same with my pants.

Rather than shuck my bra and underwear, I chose to keep them on. At least for this first shower. If Margaret was right about this being totally safe, I would consider taking them off next time.

See? I wasn’t a complete idiot.

I reached for the partially rusted nozzle and turned the shower on. It sputtered for a couple seconds before a solid stream of ice-cold water fell from above.

The hot water in our home had stopped working years ago, so I’d been accustomed to the cold for quite some time. I’d come to appreciate it, actually.

But when the steam began to accumulate in the stall, I nearly cried with relief.

I stepped into the spray and tilted my head back, letting the water wash over my disgusting, matted hair and dirty body. And damn it all, it was nice.

I picked up a bottle from the line of supplies on the floor and poured a generous amount of liquid into my palm. Head tipped back and eyes closed, I lathered my thick hair. I had to shampoo and rinse twice before the caked dirt and blood began to wash away in earnest.

I did the same with my body, and when I scrubbed my face, my hands came away covered in dirt and blood.

Of course the twisted, sick people keeping us prisoner would shove us together in this underground dungeon but give us soap for good hygiene. That made total sense.

“Who knew the Ministry would be so evil but actually give us hot water,” I joked.

When Margaret didn’t reply, my heart lurched. I waited a few seconds, but I heard nothing.

“Margaret?”

A few more seconds went by before I heard her voice. But she wasn’t talking to me. She was speaking in hushed tones to someone else, and from the way the unintelligible words bounced off the walls, it sounded like she was on the other side of the room.

“Margaret?” I repeated. “Who’s out there?”

I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest, ready to grab my clothes and dart at the first sign of trouble.

Before I could, the curtain enclosing my shower was ripped open.

I inhaled sharply, ready to scream, but a large male hand wrapped around my throat and slammed me backward, knocking the air from my lungs.

When my senses returned, I found Sinner towering over me, a much-too-menacing look dripping across his features. He was under the hot stream of water now, the droplets ricocheting off his body and onto mine as he pinned me against the cave wall.

“Start talking, New Girl. Who the hell are you?”

“What?” I choked out. “What are you talking about?” Where the hell was Margaret?

“What tier are you? What magic do you have?”

“For the last time,” I grasped his hand, trying to pry his fingers from my throat, but it was no use, “I don’t have any magic. I’m earthly, not mystic. This is all a massive mistake.”

He tightened his grip on my throat until I could barely breathe. I squirmed beneath him. I knew what would come next. Someone like me would have no way to fight off a man as large as him.

“You’re hiding something,” he growled into my ear. “I could tell from the first second I saw you. You can disappear in the shadows all you want, but if you’re a mystic, you better tell us before the blood moon. You put all of us in danger by being here.”

A harsh laugh escaped me with what little air I had access to. “You really think I want to mate with one of you crazy freaking mystics? News flash, you brute , I actually like my body to remain unviolated!”

Brow furrowed, he released me like I’d burned him. “I don’t like you. And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”

I gulped air, then immediately coughed at the burn in my lungs.

“My sister may think you’re special, but to me, you’re nothing. If you fuck this up for us, you won’t live to find a way out of here.”

Confusion rolled through me. What the hell was he talking about? “How could I possibly fuck anything up? I was kidnapped and dragged here like a piece of meat!”

His jaw clenched, his dark eyes hardening. “And stop sleeping out in the open where every man here has access to you. You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were.”

With that, he was gone, storming out of the empty showers and leaving me gasping after him.

Margaret appeared a few seconds later, wringing her hands. “I’m so sorry! I tried to stop him, but he promised he wouldn’t?—”

I held my hand up to silence her. “Margaret, you’ve been kind to me so far, so I’m going to ask you this question once and I want you to tell me the truth.”

With an audible gulp, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Is that guy your brother ?”

She sucked her plump bottom lip between her teeth, tears welling in her blue eyes.

My blood pressure shot up. “Are you kidding me? No wonder all the men ignore you! You’re the doe-eyed sister of the only tier three here!”

“I didn’t want you to be afraid of me!” she pleaded. “Everyone avoids me because of who my brother is. It gets lonely down here! And when I saw you, another girl , I knew I’d have to keep it a secret if I wanted company. It’s not a big deal, is it? Please tell me it’s not a big deal!”

Annoyance flooded my veins. Un-freaking-believable. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie! I simply omitted a small detail about my life.”

With a groan, I stepped back into the hot water. My mind still reeled, replaying each detail of what had just happened.

Sinner was Margaret’s brother, and he thought I was hiding mystic powers, just like the Ministry.

If the two were siblings, couldn’t he simply ask Margaret if I was a mystic? Did he really need to bombard me in the showers and demand the answers like that? My heart was still busy returning to a normal rate. Yeah, my instincts about remaining partially dressed had been spot-on.

“Get out of here,” I sighed. “If you let anyone else in here—including your brother—I’m going to be pissed. Understand?”

Margaret’s wide eyes lit up. “Got it,” she nodded. “Again, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t expect him to barge in here.”

“It’s okay,” I sighed, my body deflating. “I have a feeling it won’t be happening again.” I hoped not, at least.

Now I understood why Margaret was respected around here. Her brother was terrifying.

I finished my shower without more intrusions, and when I stepped out, Margaret had found clothes for me. I rinsed my disgusting boots in the water, but there was no way I was going to put my feet back in those things. I wasn’t even sure I could, not after taking them off for the first time in days.

I took off my wet bra and underwear, washed them quickly, and tucked them away with my boots. I wasn’t sure my clothing would remain unbothered around here, but if they were still here in the morning, I could put them back on. Margaret had found a shirt that was three sizes too big for me and a pair of men’s slacks I had to roll over at the waist to keep in place, but they were better than nothing.

I slipped the fabric over my now semi-human skin.

“Ready?” she asked me.

I nodded, tucking them under my arm. Margaret walked around barefoot, as did half the men in here. I guess I would be doing the same.

She slipped her arm through mine as we walked back out to the main dungeon. What the hell had Sinner meant when he said not to sleep in the middle of the room? It wasn’t like there was a wide selection of available cots to choose from.

The men had claimed just about every one, especially those in the corners, where there was a little more privacy, and no one had offered to give theirs up. They may be afraid of Sinner, but they weren’t exactly chivalrous.

I turned to head toward our usual spot, but Margaret stopped me, her lip caught between her teeth. “Um, why don’t we sleep over there tonight?” she asked, pointing to a cot that hadn’t been available before I stepped into the restroom. And of course it was the cot directly next to Sinner’s.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on. Why not? It’s way better than sleeping out there on the floor!” Though she whispered, her voice carried in the dank cell.

“You know exactly why,” I sneered as I scanned our surroundings. “I much prefer our spot on the floor. Come on.”

“Something wrong?” a male voice boomed from far too close for my comfort. “Or are you disobeying my direct orders already, New Girl?”