The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood - Prison Camp 1)

Nyx’s brows flared. And when she went silent, he spoke on. “I do not owe you an explanation—something that strikes me as a convenience as it is clear that you will afford me no impartiality. This in spite of the fact that I have done nothing but ensure your safety and the success of your mission to ascertain the fate of your sister. This in spite of you not knowing anything of me but what I have shown you, which I think we can both agree has been nothing but courtesy and protection.”

As she exhaled, she spoke in a low voice. “When is the next change of shift. That’s all that I care about.”

The Jackal opened his mouth. Then closed it.

After a moment, he spoke quietly. “You are worried about yourself. But of course.”

“I just want to get out of here.”

“And strangely, or perhaps not, I find myself in utter agreement with this goal of yours.” He rubbed his eyes. “We are past being able to concern ourselves with shifts. There are dead guards now, in a place that only a limited number of people have access to. The prison is on lockdown as we speak, in which case I have to go back to my cell for mandatory count. Assuming I have not missed it already.”

“How do we find that out?” she said. “Whether we’re on lockdown, I mean.”

“I will go—”

“No.” She got to her feet. “We go together.”

The Jackal stared across at the female he had seemed to be in such concert with when they had been fleeing the guards. All of that communion and partnership was gone. He was dealing the now with somebody who was a total stranger, one who was, moreover, incompatible with him.

“As you wish,” he muttered. “Far be it from me to get in your way.”

This was all over, Nyx thought as she put on her windbreaker, strapped on her backpack, and walked around the pool. This whole bizarre, too-dangerous, heartbreaking interlude was over. She was going to go back the way she’d come in, and then she was returning to the farmhouse and her family—

As she thought of her home, and her remaining sister, she cursed, remembering the picture she’d taken of Janelle’s name in the Old Language.

There had been plenty of very worthwhile distractions since she’d stood in front of the Wall, but grief surged now: Janelle was dead. And she had likely died alone. Had her body even been buried? Or had it been thrown out like trash.

And it was all their grandfather’s fault.

“Put a new tunic on,” Jack said.

“I don’t want to.”

He went over to the stack, picked one up and threw the thing at her. “Put this on now.”

Yanking the garment over her head, she promised herself she was going to burn the damn thing as soon as she could find a fireplace.

As Jack stalked off down the passageway, and the candles extinguished in his wake, she fell into step behind him and kept focused on the only thing that mattered. He might choose to stay here, but she was free to go—and she was not going to look back. Literally or figuratively. She was not going to ruin her future over a male she didn’t know who was stuck in a situation she couldn’t understand—and didn’t believe anyway.

These were the resolutions that propelled her away from the pool, and kept her going as he led her out into one of the main arteries of the prison.

There was no else around. No sounds, either. Like rats fleeing from a subway system, all of the prisoners had taken cover.

The lockdown was definitely happening. In which case, fine. She didn’t need him. If he took her to the way she’d come in, she would handle the rest of the way—and he could go back to his cell and waste the rest of his life down here.

Excellent choice on his part. Really, really great.

“Stop,” she said.

He didn’t. “What.”

“I know the way from here.”

Now he turned around. Staring down at her from his greater height, he lifted an eyebrow. “Do you.”

“It’s a left here, and then four rights, one after another.” She shrugged. “It’s not hard.”

“Of course it isn’t. Not for you.”

“I took all lefts when I came in.”

“What?”

Nyx repositioned the backpack under the tunic he’d made her wear. “When I came in here, so I didn’t get lost, I took all lefts. This tunnel here”—she pointed to the one they were standing in front of—“will take me to the first of the corners I took. Three more and I’m there. So we’re done. You can go back to your cell alone, which is what you wanted.”

His brilliant aquamarine eyes narrowed on her. “You have all the answers, don’t you.”

“I know how to save myself. And I know the way out of here. Those are the only two answers I need.”