The voice belonged to one of the handful of halfway-decent guards working for his Mistress. The guard’s name was Hailey Tate, and there weren’t enough like her. She talked about leaving this place one day to move into her own home with her own slaves. Though he didn’t know her well, he would miss the kindness she had shown him and the other slaves. When she eventually did leave, there would be one fewer of the kindly guards working here, just one more face forgotten.
He didn’t answer her call. They would come in whether he wanted them to or not, and though she had been kind to him in the past, he would no longer cooperate. They could fill him up with the fear drug, beat him unconscious, but he wouldn’t do one more thing for them. Or so he kept telling himself. Trying to stay alive for the hope of escape was like slow, agonizing torture, and he would not do that to himself, not anymore—unless they dosed him with the drug again. Then its effects would leave him no choice but to submit.
A key fit into the lock. The mechanism clicked, and the heavy door slowly swung open on squeaky hinges.
“Jake?” Hailey called again, but he refused to respond.
He closed his eyes and turned away from the intolerable brightness coming from the lantern she carried. After sitting in the dark for so long, even the dim illumination burned.
“Jake? Are you all right?”
He chuckled, an unpleasant sound bouncing off the walls of his small stone prison. “Well,” he croaked, “if you count being beaten, starved, and chained to a wall as all right, then I’m just dandy.”
“I know it’s been a while. I tried to get some food to you yesterday,” she said as she crouched down beside him, “but there was a problem.”
He glared at her but didn’t speak. Even through his hurt and anger, he appreciated her aid, especially since she didn’t have to offer it.
“Someone’s here to see you,” she said, changing the subject.
“There’s no one out there I want to see.”
“It’s one of the council members.”
Jake laughed, still bitter. He looked down at his filthy, naked body and reached up to scratch his bearded cheek. “I’m not in any condition to perform sexual favors. Send her away.”
Hailey frowned and glanced over her shoulder at the open doorway.
“Keep your voice down, Jake,” she hissed, leaning closer to him, her tone hardening as she spoke. “And mind what you say. I might not agree with all the rules here, but I will enforce them if I must.”
He cringed inwardly as his last comment replayed in his head. He didn’t intend for it to, but it did come out like a command. A shiver of dread slid up his spine. Hailey might not punish him for that, but he didn’t know about his visitor if she had overheard. Quickly, he changed the focus of their murmured discussion.
“I’m going to die down here, Hailey.” He couldn’t help the forlorn note in his voice.
“Don’t use my name, Jake.”
“Sorry. Ms. Tate. My Mistress doesn’t care if I live or die, and I will die down here, just like all the others.”
“I don’t think so,” she corrected, and he aimed another sharp glance in her direction.
“No?”
“No. That’s what your visitor’s here about.”
His brows twitched together in confusion. “What?”
“She has an offer for you,” Hailey told him. “If you give me your word you won’t try to harm her, I won’t restrain you as she ordered me to do.”
Ordered. He knew who ordered that: his Mistress. A slave attacking a fellow council member in Darla’s house would make her look bad, but even if he failed, the effort might also set him free from his unbearable existence. Is it worth it?
Jake sighed. “She won’t take it well if she finds out you disregarded her orders.”
“Do you plan to try to harm your visitor?”
He stared at Hailey and then shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, even though you all will hurt me.”
That sounded sufficiently noble, he mocked himself. What happened to not giving them any more?
“Just do it,” he said when she didn’t move or respond, not caring how his words could be construed.
It didn’t matter anyway.
She didn’t argue, and soon his wrists were locked together above his head, connected to a steel ring embedded in the wall. She glanced down at him, still seated on the cold stones.
“Take the offer, Jake,” she whispered as she bent over him, and his eyes snapped up to hers in surprise. He opened his mouth, but she straightened and stepped out of the room before he could speak.
An older woman entered. She was impressive; her gray-streaked black hair, pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck, exposed a pretty face, now lined with wisdom. She wore jeans and a lightweight white work shirt. She appeared stern, but a kindness resided in her amber eyes that calmed his initial fear. When she smiled, her whole face changed, and he relaxed even more, before reminding himself to stay on guard.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Nichols,” she said in a clear voice.
Jake only nodded and stared at the floor.
It’s what they expected of slaves.
Whatever she wants, I will not give it.
“My name is Jewel Stewart. I’m a member of the section’s governing council, and I have a few questions for you.”
He flicked a withering glare at her and looked away again, but still refused to answer.
She paused, and he could feel her eyes assessing him like ants crawling over his skin. He wanted to squirm under her perusal, but he forced himself to remain still.
At length, she spoke again. “Do you like living here?”
Astonished by the idiotic question, he met her gaze and barked out a rude answer before he could stop himself. “That’s a stupid question.”
“Does that mean
