Page 109 of Wounded Soul
Refused.
Raph nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
IAN FOLLOWED Watts down several sets of stairs, with Raph and two other guards close behind. They were led through one set of key-coded double doors, followed by another, before emerging into a large open plan space.
Four cells lined one side of the room, and they were nothing like Ian had imagined.
Not that he’d ever been inside a prison, but he hadn’t expected the place to be so light and airy. There were no windows down there, but whatever artificial lighting they used, it made the place seem less foreboding than Ian thought it would be.
The cells were separated from the rest of the room by a long partition of cabinets. He couldn’t see the other side to find out what they contained, but Watts noticed him looking.
“That’s one of our weapons stores,” he said, gesturing to the cabinets. He raised the gun he carried. “Plenty more of these and other things, if our guests get rowdy.”
Ian swallowed instinctively, still getting used to feeling apprehensive without any of the accompanying physical signs. He could only imagine what weapons they had at their disposal.
As they approached the cells, the two guards behind dropped back, taking position against the cabinets, guns trained on Ian and Raph.
Watts pointed towards the two cells on the end. “No more than fifteen minutes.”
Raph thanked him and nudged Ian forward with a hand on his elbow. “After you.”
Now that they were here, Ian’s steps faltered, not sure he was ready to see Jesse locked up in a cell. But they didn’t have much time, so he steeled himself and walked towards the furthest cell.
What he hadn’t counted on was having to pass Peter’s cell first, and the familiar low chuckle caught him off guard.
“Ahh, I thought I smelt you.” Peter made a show of inhaling loudly, and Ian shuddered. “Sorry about leaving you with those guards and all that mess. Must have been trying, to say the least. All that blood just—”
“Peter,” Raph snapped. “That’s enough.”
They were in front of his cell now, and despite knowing better, Ian looked inside. Heavy metal bars made up the front of them, while inside they were bare except for a low bed across the back wall. Made sense, he guessed. It wasn’t as though they needed toilet facilities.
Peter caught his eye and winked at him. Ian turned away quickly.
“You must think it’s Christmas come early,” Peter said, addressing Raph. “With me safely out of the way—for now, at least—gives you free rein to drop the agreement meeting and carry on as normal.”
Raph rolled his eyes. “Contrary to what you seem to believe, I didn’t agree to that meeting because of you. It was a good idea for the whole coven. We should and will hold a review of our current agreement with the VLCD, and I’ve already suggested the other covens do the same. You being out of the picture won’t change anything.”
Peter raised an eyebrow, and in the blink of an eye he was up standing in front of the heavy metal bars. “You don’t actually think I’m going to lose this stupid challenge your golden boy has instigated, do you?” When Raph remained quiet, Peter threw his head back and laughed. “I suggest you try and talk some sense into him before it’s too late.”
Having had enough of Peter already, Ian left them to it and hurried to the cell next door. He stopped in his tracks when his gaze met Jesse’s.
It might only have been a few hours since they’d seen each other, but the ache in Ian’s chest said otherwise. He wanted to touch him, needed to feel Jesse’s arms tight around him, and the fact it couldn’t happen only made the ache that much worse. “Hey,” he whispered, hands automatically reaching out to grip the bars.
“Don’t,” Jesse said quickly and pointed at the bars. “They’re iron, with just enough silver mixed in to make touching them sting.”
Ian curled his hands into fists, then let them hang at his sides. “Are you sure about this?” He ignored Peter’s heckling, trying to block him out as best he could.
“Yes.” Jesse’s voice was strong and certain, and Ian could tell by his expression that nothing he said would change Jesse’s mind. “He killed Callum.”
Oh.
Ian wasn’t as surprised by that revelation as Jesse seemed to expect.
Jesse ran a hand through his hair, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve known he was capable of something like that. But all these years, I thought— Never mind. None of that matters now. I need him to pay for what he did, get justice for Callum, and a few years spent behind bars just doesn’t seem enough.”
“A few years?” Peter hissed, reminding Ian that they weren’t alone. “I’d hardly call it that. Are you forgetting the countless people you’ve drained over the years? And don’t give me that bullshit excuse that they deserved it. You’re still a murderer, Jesse.”
Ian flinched, couldn’t help it, and a shadow crossed Jesse’s face.
