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Jessie’s heart rate jumped into overdrive. The man who addressed her had been her neighbor during her brief stay here in this subterranean prison. Orik had called him Khalstorm. Before, she only knew him by his voice. Now she had a face to put with the name. His features were rough-hewn; dark, dull hair, wide chin caked with thick stubble, severe, stormy eyes with dark circles underneath. He was nearly as large in stature as Orik, somehow managing to tower over her from behind the bars. If she had to give a name to what he was, she’d say he was a gladiator from hell with a thirst for blood because even behind bars, she sensed danger from him.
“One does not typically sneakintoprison.” His gruff baritone sounded like a razor’s edge scraping against stone, belying the casual way he leaned against the bars.
“I’m not sneaking,” she lied, then added, “But it would help me if you kept your voice down.”
“Heh. Well, this isn’t a leisurely visit.”
She endeavored to ignore him. Not really sure where Xanthia had come from that day, she peered around for some kind of clue, an alcove or staircase or hidden tunnel or, God willing, a sign that said,Here’s Where You Can Find Me, Jessie.But there was only a dead end.
When she whispered her name, Khalstorm clucked his tongue. “Ah, you seek the silver-haired witch who pops in and out on occasion. Walks around like she owns the place.”
She studied Khalstorm closer. His aura was a swirl of mischief and curiosity. She wasn’t sure she could trust anything he had to say. Still, there was nothing else to go on. “Have you seen her recently?”
Some of the other inmates had begun to hoot and chirp and whistle, vying for her attention. “Hey, miss. Over here. You need help? I can help…for a price.”
Khalstorm shot her a devious grin. “She buys our cooperation.”
The other inmates chuckled and snorted.
“I have nothing to offer you.”
With a suggestive gleam, he scanned her body. “A statement that could no’ be more wrong.”
“Ugh. Perve much? Is that why you’re in here? Debauchery?”
His gaze narrowed dangerously. “None of your business why I’m in here.”
“Then we have nothing to talk about.” She turned away. It wasn’t until she was snared from behind that she realized she had gravely underestimated the length of his reach. Like the strike of a viper, his arm whipped out and clamped around her waist, pulling her back against the bars.
She tried to wrench away, but it was like trying to bend steel with a rubber pipe. “Let me go.”
“Wait, lass. I know where she goes. Free me and I can lead you to her.”
“Like I could ever trust you. Release me.” Power began to fill in her palm.
“Aye. Okay. But I can pass along a message when I see her next.”
That gave her pause. That, and the sudden desperation that filled his tone. “You would tell her I’m looking for her?”
“I would.” Still, he didn’t release her.
“For what price?”
“You have the ear of the Queen Mother.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
Suddenly the other inmates called out similar offers of assistance: “I can give her a message, little lady.” “I can,for a kiss.”“I just want tae feel those plum, round—”
Khalstorm snarled at them. “Quiet, the lot of you!” Still, he didn’t release her.
“I merely wish to have my case reviewed,” he said in earnest. “I do no’ belong down here with this riffraff.”
Heartless laughs and jeers echoed. “Kills his beloved and callsusriffraff?”
Khalstorm hissed through gritted teeth, “The charges against me are false.”
“I don’t care,” she spat. “Let me go, or else.” Her palm blazed with power.
Khalstorm released her as though she were infected. She darted several feet away before turning to face him. The shadow of something dark slithered behind his eyes before his irises lit with a reptilian green glow. It reminded her of when Orik was about to transform. If he shifted, could he bury her in flame before she could jump out of the way?
