In the Arms of the Enemy Read online

  Journal entry: 10.18.2668

  I’m supposed to be leaving on the midnight transport. By the time it comes and they realize what I’ve done, God willing, I’ll be gone. I keep asking myself why I’m doing this, but deep down I know… I know I’m doing it for her.

  It’s wrong to want a creature like Tatima, especially one under my guard. I can’t stop seeing her dark blue eyes or feeling the softness of her skin against mine. The moisture of her lips and tongue when I assuaged her hunger.

  I’m a man. I’m human. This outpost is lonely. She’s as beautiful to me as she is frightening.

  We trusted each other once. Maybe we could again.

  Wanting her could mean so much disaster, but I can’t stop.

  ---

  The United States has split. Supernatural creatures—lab experiments gone wrong—are being rounded up so their existence can be contained. One young man, bent on revenge, takes a job as a prison guard in order to kill the blood-sucker who murdered his father. A creature who used to be human. Someone he once thought he loved.

  When Ronan gets close, he discovers the feelings he had for Tatima aren’t so long-dead as he’d believed. A web of lies surrounding his father’s death and the outpost where he works gets stickier the more he investigates.

  The further Ronan goes, the less anything makes sense. Except the woman who can still bring him to life with a single touch.

  The woman who’s supposed to be his enemy.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  About this book

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About Elisabeth

  Copyright

  To the handsome lieutenant who gave us a jail tour that one time. Oh, yeah. You gave me all sorts of ideas. ;)

  1

  For Ronan Dempsey, living and working in North Woods Outpost rivaled dying a slow death in the fun department. Which was fine, since what he’d come here to do would most likely get him killed.

  Revenge. He ate and breathed the word. He’d dream it, if he ever slept.

  “Man, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I miss food. I was full-on stuffing my face with a pack of chili dogs when the rebellion hit our city. Last ones I ever had. What were you losers doing when the rebellion hit?” Ronan’s friend and superior officer, Kebro, dropped beside him on a bench seat in the guard’s break room. His question was mostly aimed toward the new officer across the table. A dark-skinned tank of a man by the name of Noah.

  In the prison’s cinderblock-walled lunchroom, Ronan folded his hands over his dry protein loaf and squinted against the flickering, brain-numbing lights overhead. Focusing on the tray in front of him, he made like he was chewing the best damn food he’d ever stuck in his mouth.

  Ignore them.

  This seemed to be Kebro’s obsession, probing the other guards at North Woods about where they were at the beginning of the big supernatural rebellion. Some fucked-up curiosity about what they remembered and how it affected them. Like bringing it all up again would—what?—change history? Band them all together in some sort of common brotherhood?

  Perhaps after shift they’d all braid each other’s hair, paint their naked chests with ancient tribal symbols, and hold hands in the ice-cold woods. Dance around and sing until their nuts fell off. Best fucking team-building in the history of never. Yeesh.

  The rebellion had left the country a battered, empty shell of a republic. That it split the once United States in half, pitted brother against brother, mother against son and left blood running in the streets, was enough to sicken anybody.

  The horror of that entire disaster was best left in the past.

  Where Ronan had been and what he remembered from the day the rebellion began sure wasn’t anything he liked to discuss. Kebro knew, but he still dragged the topic out in the daylight and beat its bloody carcass.

  Most days Ronan ignored the talk, because letting his nerves show would only give him away. And with every day that passed, he was one more twisted recollection from losing his own mind.

  He needed to change the subject. “Hey, I heard there was a fire in the max ward right after the new prisoners came in. You guys get that handled?”

  Kebro flipped his spoon. “No matter. Some strange critter they brought in who breathes flames really tried to swing for the fences when I put him in his cell.”

  Ronan frowned. “Is that so? I’ve never seen a fire breather.”

  “I heard the remaining ones were put down after the rebellion for being too dangerous and volatile,” Noah raised and lowered his cannonball shoulders. “‘A menace to human society,’ I read in the Tribute. Never did make sense to me. You know, my sister was engaged to one of those guys who got changed from the experiments, before they started disappearing and everything. Seemed the same as when he was fully human. Treated her real nice. Wasn’t his fault he sometimes lit shit up when he sneezed. I guess the rest of us don’t ask questions.”

  The twist of Noah’s lips made his sarcasm clear. “Fucked-up, if you ask me. The government created a mess, told those test subjects they could walk free, and then called back that freedom soon as some dickjockey in a suit had a panic attack about ‘em being dangerous.”

  Kebro turned his hardened gaze toward the new guy. “They are dangerous, friend. If they weren’t, none of us would have a job.”

  Kebro had specific opinions, which Ronan tried not to discuss. He’d befriended Ronan on his arrival from officer training camp. Though younger, he had rank and experience on Ronan. Like a lot of the guys, Kebro had opted for going straight to work as a detention guard rather than heading to university. Better money and no debt. After all, the value of intellectual capital was at an all-time low in this economy. Why bother?

  To be fair, Kebro had a hard-edged survival instinct. Ronan had absorbed a great deal of knowledge from him. They weren’t exactly the best of buddies, but contradicting him wasn’t wise.

  Ronan studied Noah with wide-open disbelief. He’d never heard of any human admitting to close supernatural interaction before. Not in this part of the country, and certainly not on a friendly basis.

  Oh sure, most of them had had some. Usually though, it was unknown. Accidental. The ones who did know they’d had contact kept it real fucking quiet. It was like being exposed to a case of the pox. You didn’t tell, or you’d risk quarantine.

  At the least.

  Ronan had been on the bus for guard training when he’d passed a group of protesting students getting led away in cuffs by the police. One of them he’d recognized as a girl he’d taken home from a bar the week before. She’d had “Howlers are people too!” painted across her bare chest and torso in black letters. A man in padded gear and a face mask had silenced her screaming with an electrified baton.

  To this day, the memory seared the back of his eyes. He’d unknowingly slept with an altered creature, and God knew that could earn him a one-way ticket to getting strapped down and bad-touched at the nearest research lab. Worse by far was the si
ckening experience of being stuck on that bus, fists pounding the glass. The driver had only shaken his head and barreled onward while behind them Ronan’s one-night stand had been beaten for nothing more than showing her true self.

  She hadn’t been violent, not that he’d seen. To this day, anger and guilt warred inside him. Kebro would say she’d deserved her fate. Ronan’s mother, God rest her, would shake her head and ask what humanity was becoming.

  Ronan wished he knew. His spoon bent in his grip.

  “I heard that guy who lost the election in East America demanded a recount,” Kebro said. “Fairlane, or something. No. Fairfield.”

  Noah waved his hand. “I heard they called it. Some people can’t stand to lose, that’s all.”

  Ronan tried to block out the surrounding chatter. There was little to be gained in unverified gossip out their way, and he never did have much use for politics. With the exception of the scant information he’d dug up about his father’s death, he’d made a point of avoiding the news since his mother had passed.

  The world was too fucking ugly.

  Grabbing at the back of his neck, Ronan tried to rub away his lingering regret. Nothing he could have done would have saved that howler girl. Likely if he’d tried, Ronan would have landed in a cell there at North Woods instead of working as a guard. Devil only knew. Sympathizing with supernaturals had its own section now in the criminal code.

  Kebro’s laugh cracked in the thick silence. He pointed a spoon across the table at Noah. “Yeah. So. Your sister and that fire breather…?”

  Noah turned to Kebro with a dead stare. “You have a question?”

  The situation had all the makings of a disaster. Kebro might have been their superior, but Noah didn’t look ready to hear jokes about his family.

  Kebro was too dense or too stubborn to back down. “I mean, were you the man of the house? Where was your father? I’m surprised you people let that shit stand.”

  Enough. Ronan stood and dumped his full tray of food into the waste bin.

  “Careful, brother.” Kebro pointed his spoon and his judgment in Ronan’s direction.

  Dammit. Kebro could be okay sometimes. Sometimes, his rank and special privileges at North Woods as the commander’s nephew made him a real splinter in the ass.

  Ronan shot a glare at the man over his shoulder. “My mandatory exercise slot starts in a few minutes. Can’t lift weights on a full stomach.”

  At that moment, his belly churned with acid. Memories played unchecked in his brain of desperate screams and falling bodies.

  Kebro and Noah both nodded and resumed eating. Waste could get them into trouble. Talking shit and lazing around could also. A little chatter at meal times or in the locker rooms was about all they could risk without raising eyebrows, and Ronan’s departure had effectively ended that party.

  Lucky thing North Woods Outpost had a lower staff count than the other supernatural detention centers in the Eastern States. Their isolated location made escape hopeless, and few were eager to work within the outpost’s walls. Ronan doubted they’d see him swing for wasting one shitty meal. Which was good, because he couldn’t stay and listen any longer.

  Ronan worked hard to forget about life before news of the supernatural experiments got out and the country—countries—went insane. Why bother trying to remember before when the now was all about survival?

  “Hey, friend, wait one second.” Kebro jogged across the small room. “Everything okay? You seem even more out in the distance than usual.”

  Going for a slight shrug, Ronan decided against pointing out Kebro’s discussion had gone a long way toward putting him in such a harsh mood. He didn’t have much in the way of friends in this place. Or anywhere. Best not to raze every bridge he’d crossed by being spiteful to this one.

  “Just tired. Still getting back on track after that shift change,” Ronan said.

  “Aww, yeah.” Kebro grinned. “Sorry.” With a slap to Ronan’s shoulder, his grin widened. “But thanks for switching with Neala. Needed a little stress relief, you know?”

  Ronan had traded shifts with an attractive guard on daytime that Kebro had a thing for. “Sure. Nothing an orgasm or two won’t cure, right?”

  He scratched the achy place on his chest, taking a step away even as he threw out the joke. His purpose at North Woods Outpost wasn’t to make friends or find solace in the arms of another.

  Even still, he’d never been anyplace so desolate. Some days he thought he couldn’t get any more hollow if someone cracked him open and scooped out his insides.

  “Right.” Kebro grinned as he, too, stepped back. “Well I’m good to return the favor anytime. You let me know.”

  “Actually…” Now came the real reason Ronan had willingly traded shifts with Kebro’s woman. “You think you could maybe help me get a spot working on the maximum security ward? I’ve been looking to make a change.”

  Ronan worked minimum security. On the plus side, Ronan could sleepwalk through his night at his current post. In the minus column, minimum security was way the hell at the opposite end of the detention center from where he needed to be to make his plans work.

  Kebro gave him a curious look.

  “I’ve made deliveries to the wing and heard the guards talking about all the crazy shit down there. I have to see for myself.”

  What Ronan really needed was to see one creature in particular. No way would Kebro know. He hoped.

  Kebro tipped his head to the side. “That’s not a job we get many volunteers for. Believe me when I say that wing is not for pussies. Last week, I literally almost got my balls bitten off.”

  Ronan chuckled. “Come on. I need some action. Minimum is putting me to sleep. Soon I might do something crazy like start up arts and crafts or prayer time and shit. Teach the mongrels and parasites how to decorate their own clothes.”

  Ronan didn’t plan on doing anything of the kind, but the joke looked like it worked on Kebro, who gave up a huge smile. “Hey, friend. Whatever you say. You really wanna check it out, I’ll put in a word. I’m telling you though, that ward does things to you.”

  Ronan gave Kebro a friendly kick to the shin. “You takin’ me for some kind of worm?”

  “I said nothing of the kind. It’s your fucking sanity, friend. I’ll ask.”

  “Thanks, friend.” Ronan headed for the smelly little room that passed for their gym, trying to leave behind his unease.

  That ward does things to you.

  He’d gotten what he wanted. Why wasn’t he feeling more satisfaction?

  Ronan didn’t need to worry about his sanity. He figured he’d already lost his, what with his anger and pain filling up all the spaces where the rest of his feelings used to be. Anyway, he didn’t plan to be around much longer. No point in trying to find peace.

  Revenge. That was what he needed.

  Revenge. Yes. The word echoed with every beat of his heart.

  2

  Journal entry: 10.13.2668

  I thought I’d finally be able to sleep once I got to North Woods, but I haven’t. Not since I knew for sure Tatima was behind these walls. Even though the guards get far better accommodations than the critters do, it sure as fuck isn’t luxury.

  Fucking freezing in this place.

  Anyway, I don’t deserve “luxury.” I figure I spent enough time dicking around when I was supposed to be studying at university, not appreciating any of the good I had. This here is my karma.

  Working the midnight shift doesn’t help. My internal clock is junked.

  I have this constant case of the jitters. I want to—need to—get another look at her.

  The parasite who murdered my dad. The woman I thought was a friend.

  More than a friend.

  Since the economy tanked and they hardly put pictures in the paper anymore, I didn’t get to see Tatima until they brought her here to North Woods. Not that I don’t see blood suckers here every day, but I guess I expected her to have changed more.

  I e
xpected a monster. I expected… some sign that she was different.

  Her dyed pink hair has faded, but her eyes are still curious and wide. She looked like the girl I remember from when she was saving up to go to college, working at my dad’s company, only more beaten down. Didn’t seem psychotic or savage.

  Could those experiments really have turned the girl I once kissed into a killer?

  I’m itching to check her name and case number, to be certain. My father was good to her. How could she have just ripped him to shreds?

  I still tried to swing through the max ward at the end of my shift tonight for a look-see, but there wasn’t time. Crossing my fingers that Kebro can get me in.

  If I wait long enough, she might simply waste away in her cell. I hear they need blood to live, and she won’t be allowed any here. I can’t let this go without confronting her, though. Without finding out what she knows. What she did.

  Tatima was a sweet girl when I knew her. What the fuck happened when I left??

  Tatima pulled her knees to her chest and rubbed circles along her arms. She’d started off trying to maintain a dignified stance at all times, but curling up kept her warm. Honestly, she couldn’t imagine anything she did or didn’t do would change the way any of the guards looked at her.

  Their eyes all narrowed when she’d walked in, some curious and some hateful. Some disgusted. Worst of all was spotting Ronan. He’d held his position behind another guard, but the wrath in that young man’s stare had cut her from where he stood.

  The son of Dempsey International’s CEO had once been so warm. She’d even managed to entertain a crush when they’d talked at their desks and brushed past each other in the halls during Ronan’s time as an intern. He’d kissed her once—barely, a gentle press of closed mouths—when she’d brought him dinner on a late night doing paperwork. His father’s entrance had shocked them apart, leaving Tatima with tingling lips and flaming cheeks.

  She’d find no warmth from him in this place. “I was normal, once,” she whispered. Not that anyone believed her. She hardly believed herself.

  The cuts on Tatima’s wrists throbbed. She didn’t imagine she’d be allowed to have blood or medical care, so she pressed them to her body and tried not to look, tried not to think of why she’d gotten them in the first place. Giving up on another escape attempt was something she couldn’t afford, but she didn’t see a way out. No doubt the humans would make every effort to keep her weak.