She’d never had an occasion to visit a dungeon before, not even inside her own palace, but this was how she’d imagined one would look. Half a dozen long cells stretched opposite a security station, which was manned by two gray-uniformed guards. By habit, she made note of the weapons at their hips—an electric prod and a pulse pistol, each hanging on an unsecured holster loop. She estimated how quickly she could grab a weapon with her wrists bound, but as if sensing her awareness, both guards stood out of reach while they pulled aside the cell door of fiberglass bars.
The cell was dim and cool, smelling slightly of mold, and the floor tilted on a decline that led to a round drainage grate near the back wall. She tried not to dwell on what fluids had once flowed there, but the burgundy-colored stains around the catch basin painted a vivid enough picture. The door slammed shut behind her, making her jump.
“Unshackle the prisoner,” one guard told the Daeva, his voice thick with disgust for the bounty hunters. Among lawmen, the Daeva commanded fear, but never respect.
Cassia stood flush with the bars, holding still while the Daeva who’d taken the most delight in abusing her reached through and unfastened her wrists and ankles.
“I’m gonna miss this one,” he said while leering at her. “She has a nice scream. Wish I had the credits to buy her so I could hear more of it.”
Each time his skin brushed hers, she had to clench her teeth to keep from flinching. His cuticles were crusted in her blood. The sight of his hands brought back a flood of memories the sedatives had dulled. When the Daeva slid the chains free and turned to leave, Cassia drew a furious breath.
“You forgot something,” she said.
The instant he glanced over his shoulder, she moved like lightning, jabbing her fist between the bars. Her knuckles connected with his nose, and a light crack sounded as his bones splintered beneath her hand. Before he could react, she darted out of his reach into the cell. She tripped over her own boots and landed hard on the concrete floor, but the fury in the man’s eyes was worth a bruised tailbone.
He gripped the bars and rattled them in a violent clatter, sputtering curses through the blood flowing over his lips. One of the Durango guards prodded the Daeva with an electric wand and warned, “Any more damage to Marius’s prize and it’ll come out of your bounty. I suggest you see the clerk and then return to whatever hole you crawled out of.”
The Daeva growled and snorted for a full minute, but he eventually gave up the fight and stalked out the door. Once the clatter of his footsteps faded up the stairs, the guard turned to his partner and issued an order. “Take an extra set of restraints to the maids and tell them to put down a vermin-resistant tarp before they begin.” He thumbed at Cassia. “God knows what kind of mutated lice she’s tracked in here.”
The other man nodded and nervously scratched his scalp.
As soon as he left the room, the first guard leaned against the wall and folded both arms, studying Cassia as if she were a riddle that needed solving.
“You’ve changed,” he said. “For the better, I think.”
He spoke as if they knew each other, which prompted her to examine him more closely. Now that she studied the contours of his face, he did seem familiar. He was in his early twenties, tall and slim with sandy hair and a crooked nose that indicated he’d broken it more than once. Something prickled at the edges of her memory, but she couldn’t place him.
“You don’t remember me,” he said flatly, like he’d expected as much. “Let me help. I was the cadet charged with supervising your shopping trips in the city. You always gave me the slip, and then I had to pull extra detail as punishment for losing you.”
The missing pieces connected, and she gave a small gasp of realization. He was one of her family’s soldiers wearing an enemy disguise. She would’ve recognized him sooner if he hadn’t changed, too. His gaze had grown hard and cold, as if the last two years had drained all the youth out of him. “Private Jordan?”
“It’s General Jordan now.”
“General? That’s a high rank for someone so young.”
“Consider it a side effect of war,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Promotions come quickly when your superior officers are dead.”
Cassia’s cheeks grew hot. Her first instinct was to hang her head, but she kept her gaze firmly fixed on his. “I didn’t want any of this to happen. I had to leave.”
“I know. If you’d married into the Durango family, Marius would have killed your parents. And maybe you, too, once he secured the Rose title.”
Her brows lifted. “Who told you?”
“I have my sources.”
“So is that why you’re here?” Her heart swelled with hope, filling her with the first real warmth she’d felt in ages. “To take me home? Do my parents believe me now?”
Jordan watched her for a long moment before shaking his head. “You’re even more out of touch than I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your parents are gone. They escaped off world months ago.”
“Escaped? To bring back reinforcements?”