“I see you’ve met my new right-hand man,” Wild said, stepping from the shadows. “Ah, sorry, you two know each other already—don’t you.” Wild crossed to where she lay and reached down, wrapping his fingers around her neck. There was no sign of mercy in his eyes. He lifted her to her feet. “Did you really think you could double-cross me?” he growled. Arista dug at his fingers, but could not loosen his grip.
“Please.” Her voice came out raspy and faint. She could barely breathe. When she kicked out at his leg, he only laughed.
Blackness crept into her vision, and she struggled against his hold. She could see Nic standing by the door, watching but not moving, not helping her. There was no emotion on his face at all. Tears burned her eyes. He would never have let anyone touch her before.
“You’re a monster,” she spat at him.
He finally looked away.
“Time’s up,” the jailer barked as he came back down the hallway. “You’ll not rob anyone of a good hanging.” He yanked Wild away. As soon as she was free, Arista gulped in a huge lungful of air, almost making herself ill.
Wild straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, my dear. I’ll be in the front row at your hanging come dawn. You’ve made me quite popular, now that I’ve caught such an infamous blackmailer. I should thank you.” He bowed to her, an elaborate mocking gesture that made her feel even sicker. Then he turned and walked away.
Nic watched her for a few seconds longer, then turned and followed Wild out the door.
She screamed and lunged after him, reaching for her missing knife out of habit. The jailer grabbed her around the waist before she made it more than a few steps. Wild’s contemptuous laughter echoed down the hall. Arista screamed again. The inhuman sound echoed off the stones.
She kicked and twisted and pounded her fists against the thick man’s arms, but he only walked over and dumped her back into the cell. She lay where she fell and curled into a tight ball. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold in the sobs that built inside. Nic. Nic had betrayed her for Wild. Agony clawed its way up her throat and choked off her air.
“I’m sorry,” a small voice whispered.
There was a soft touch on her shoulder and Arista looked up into the eyes of the young girl from the corner. In her expression, Arista saw the truth.
She was going to die.
Hours later, the keys jingled again and Arista scooted backward until she came up sharply against the stone wall. What now? Had Wild decided to come back and torture her even more?
Two of the quieter girls in the back of the cell detached from the shadows and sauntered forward. They were both rough-looking, but one had cuts along her arm that looked like they needed a doctor’s attention.
“What do we have tonight?” the older one asked the jailer.
“There’s a new one with some coins wanting a little female company.”
The girls nudged each other and the jailor laughed as they walked out of the cell. “Here’s your extra bread. You can eat it while we walk. He’s a mite impatient. For the rest of you lot—” he said to the room, and threw several smaller loaves onto the middle of the floor.
The door slammed shut and the other women dove at the bread, pushing and biting to get to it. Arista watched with distaste. Bones used to do things like that when they were children. He said it helped them develop a fighting edge. Arista refused to fight for her food. She would never use her body, either.
“I got you a piece. It ain’t much, but we don’t get much.” The young girl handed her a piece of bread the size of her thumb.
Arista shook her head. “You eat it. I’m not hungry.” The thin girl shoved it into her mouth without argument. Neither mentioned the truth that hung in the air between them. Arista would hang very soon. No use wasting bread on the dead.
“So, why are you here? I like the colors in your skirt—is it yours? I’m Grace, by the way.” The girl smiled rather shyly. “It’s okay, I don’t mean to pry.”
“I didn’t steal it, it’s mine. They think I killed someone, but I didn’t.” Grace’s eyes went round and she moved away just a bit. “I promise I didn’t,” Arista said. The girl’s nervousness made her uncomfortable, and she tried to put the girl at ease. “Why are you here, Grace?” she asked.
“My father owed a debt he couldn’t pay. He gave me in exchange.” Her gaze lowered to the floor.
A knot formed in Arista’s stomach. “How long have you been here?”
“Two days.” She raised her head and tears glistened in her eyes. “I thought he would come back for me by now.”
It was a surprise that Grace had been here that long and had not been harmed—or worse, been led out of the cell to service the inmates who could barter or pay for female companionship. It wouldn’t be much longer before that happened, though. The girl was too pretty to go untouched if no one came to claim her.