“You can, but you won’t. Come along.”
We pass by a few empty cells. Then, she tells me a little more about select inmates, including a banshee who won’t stop crying, a bogeyman, a cyclops who doesn’t blink his eye that takes up half of his face, a satyr, and several harpies all in one cell together.
Portia stops abruptly once we’re on the third floor and heading northward. “Do not go any farther unless you are wearing earbuds.”
“Why is that?” I ask curiously.
“That is the siren’s wing. Their voices and songs are so powerful that even a witch with nine of the ten disciples of magic will be hard pressed to remain unaffected.”
I nod.
"Do not forget," she says sharply. "We have not had a breakout, but we have had deaths before."
“Have inmates killed themselves?”
“No.” Her white eyes are somber. “No, but inmates have killed each other, and they have killed guards as well.”
Well, isn't that just dandy?
Chapter Two
After the tour, Portia gives me a tray and tells me to hurry up and eat before the inmates are released and are allowed to eat.
That’s all I need to know, and I shove in my meal. I’m more than a little nervous. Lately, I’ve been paranoid. My parents had been killed while performing the job of paranormal executioners, and I do not want that to happen to me. As a result, I’ve been trying to keep up a shield around me and any close by friends. It means I’m constantly hungry and fatigued.
“You will take the night duty shift,” Portia says once I’ve finished everything on the tray.
“You want me to be the only guard here?” I ask. “On my first night?”
“Is there a problem?” Portia snaps.
“Not at all,” I say with a lot more confidence than I feel.
A few hours later, I’m on night guard duty. Basically, I’m supposed to walk up and down all of the floors with inmates and make certain their asleep or at least quiet and not getting into any trouble. The shackles they wear are supposed to inhibit their magical abilities, so I should be safe as long as I don’t do anything stupid.
“Hello, what do we have here?” a man says in a silky smooth voice.
I glance over to see an elf. “You should be sleeping.”
“Sleep is overrated,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Who are you?”
“A guard who won’t accept inmates who won’t listen.”
“No? What will you do if I keep talking?”
“I’ll throw you into solitary,” I say airily.
His nostrils flare. “You do not have that authority.”
“Oh, I don’t? I wouldn’t be too certain on that account if I were you.”
“You’re merely a guard here for a week. You’re one of those kids who aspire to be a paranormal executioner, am I right?
I scowl. He’s right, but I don’t want to admit that to him.
“You’re nothing more than a glorified babysitter,” he gloats.
“Do you need a pacifier to keep that mouth of yours quiet?” I snap. “Some of the others are trying to sleep. I'm sure most if not all of them would appreciate you being silent, so unless you want me to make that happen, I suggest you zip your lips.”
The elf scowls at me, but I’m already walking away. At least he doesn’t call out to me, but he’s not the only inmate to heckle me. A few just want to talk, and I feel terrible that they feel so lonely.
After I sneak past the silent banshee who isn’t crying because she’s asleep, I reach the siren’s wing. I remember clearly the warning, to not go near the wing unless I have earbuds, but I'm a witch, a powerful one. That's not bragging because it's the truth. No siren is going to control me.
I take a few more cautious steps. There’s no singing, no talking at all, and I pass the first few cells. They’re all empty.
Just then, I see one. A male siren. I guess that makes sense. There have to be male ones, not just females, but I've always thought of sirens as females before.
He has long, green hair that’s almost spiky on top and in the back. He pushes away from the back wall he’d been leaning against, and he stalks toward me, his every movement graceful.
“Well, well, it looks like we have a new fish,” he says.
I shake my head. “I’m not an inmate.”
“You’re a guard? Aren’t you a little young?”
I scowl. “You don’t look much older than I am!”
“I’m twenty-four.” He appraises me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“No? Why is that? Are you going to try to force me to do your bidding?”
“And do what?” he asks bitterly. “There’s nothing for me here.”
“No?” I eye him. “Who are you? What did you do?”
“That’s just it.” The siren scowls. “I don’t even know.”
“How can you not know?" I ask incredulously. His expression, his words, his tone… I think I might actually believe him, but… “Wasn’t there a trial? Even if you don’t remember what happened, your actions should’ve been discussed at the trial.”
My heart begins to beat faster. There has to be a judge and jury type deal, right? A magical judiciary system? I know HEX U seeks out and has us hunt down evil paranormal creatures, but wouldn’t a person have to be tried before coming here to the prison?
Then again, paranormal slayers and executioners don’t rely on a jury to tell them what to do.
“I can help you remember,” I blurt out.
“What if I don’t want to remember?” he asks.
“What if I want to know?”
“What are you going to do, witch? Get in my head?”
I nod. “But only if you’ll let me.”
He steps closer, and the harsh artificial light above my head gives him a slightly silver look. The siren is a lot stronger than I thought he would be. He’s not a lithe, slender man.
“My name is Echol, but you might as well forget about me. They aren’t going to let me out from behind these bars
