The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood - Prison Camp 1)

“I slaughtered an entire bloodline.”

As Apex spoke up from his lean against the wall, all stares went to him, and he didn’t miss a beat with his sharp blade against the pale flesh of the piece of wood he was working.

“I murdered them in their sleep.” He regarded the blade, turning it back and forth in the candlelight as if he were conjuring fond memories of its use. “Even the females. That’s why I’m in here.”

Those black eyes of his flashed to Nyx. “Any other questions? Do you want to know what I did with the bodies?”

“No,” Jack bit out. “She does not.”

Kane cleared his throat. “Well, if we’re telling our stories, I shall share mine own. I broke an arranged mating with a female I did not love. Her sire took offense.” The male’s eyes went to the pool’s churning water. “He arranged for the murder of the female I did love, and he blamed it upon me. I am here for life as a result of his retaliation.”

“I am so sorry,” Nyx whispered as unspeakable pain flared in his face.

“It matters not.” Kane seemed exhausted, and not because he required sleep. “Whether I am housed here or up above, I would be suffering. I will e’er mourn my leelan.”

There was another period of silence, and she glanced at Jack. He had a remote expression on his face as he studied Kane, and it seemed as though it was the first time he had heard the story—

“What of your sister?” Lucan demanded. “Why was she here?”

Nyx cleared her throat as she was addressed. “She was falsely accused of murder. She didn’t kill the male. My grandfather, for reasons I don’t understand, turned her in to the Council. I don’t know why he did it, and I will never forgive him.”

“Ne’er has more a corrupt body existed,” Kane muttered. “Did they even bother with a farce of a trial?”

“Was the victim one of them?” Lucan asked. “An aristocrat, I mean. No offense, Kane.”

“None taken, friend.”

Nyx nodded. “He was. We’re just civilians, obviously. He lived not far from our farmhouse, on a lot of property, in a big fancy house. Janelle—my sister—she would go over there and work, you know, just trying to make some money. For about a year, she mowed the meadows and tended the fences. She painted barns and the house. She took care of the gardens, too. . . . Anyway, one night, she came back to our house early and told us that the male had died of old age. Given that he had no heirs, he’d provided a little something for her as well as some of the other folks who worked there. She had some cash and a ring. It wasn’t a lot of money or a piece of jewelry of much value, and I thought it was a nice gesture by an employer. And that was that, or so I thought. Except then the next night . . . we got this formal notice of accusation from the Council.” She shrugged helplessly. “Why my grandfather did what he did, I’ll never know, and how the Council found her guilty, I’ll also never understand. She was totally innocent.”

“I know why the Council blamed her.” Kane shook his head. “In the Old Laws, if someone dies without issue, the estate goes to the next of kin, no matter how distant the relation. If the person is murdered under those circumstances, however, their property, real or otherwise, goes unto the Council. The intent of the law was to discourage heirs who were not first-degree offspring like sons or daughters from killing their benefactors, on the theory that direct issue have enough of an emotional connection to their blooded parents to avoid matricide or patricide no matter how large the inheritance. In fact, however, the law served as a fundraiser for the Council. If everything you say is true, they needed to find someone guilty of murder so they could split the estate.”

“Those bastards.”

And she included her grandfather in that. Had he been paid somehow?

“For all their dainty airs and social propriety, the glymera can be very cutthroat.” Kane exhaled in a defeat. “Regardless of who they hurt. Or who they ruin.”

“So my grandfather sacrificed her to them. Why the hell . . .”

Nyx stopped and rubbed her aching head. There were going to be no answers to all that now, but as soon as she was home, she was going to make him tell the truth.

Assuming she made it out alive.

“Was your sister dead, then?” Lucan asked. “Did you find her name on the Wall?”

“Yes.” Nyx met the male in the eye. “Her name was inscribed in that lineup. She died here.”

After a moment, the male nodded once in respect. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” To change the subject, she said, “What about you? What’s your story?”