Page 50 of The Prison Healer

Unlike Kiva, the guard wasn’t hesitant at all, and gave a confirming dip of her head.

“Naari should go with you,” Jaren said.

Kiva turned back to him, barely repressing the urge to anxious-laugh. “I won’t get to choose who my escort is. That’s not how it works.”

Jaren looked at the guard. “You should go with her.”

Kiva’s heart stuttered. Amicable though she might be, there was no way Naari would allow Jaren to get away with talking to her as if they were on equal footing.

“I’ll speak with Rooke,” the guard said.

The breathwhooshedout of Kiva. She was certain she looked like a stunned owl, blinking with shock at what had just transpired.

At the very least, Naari should have warned Jaren to remember his place. He was a prisoner, and he had just made a request of a guard that sounded close to being a command. Kiva had seen prisoners executed for less.

Eyeing them both, Kiva wondered if perhaps Jaren already knew all about the “favored” inmates. He was young, fit, attractive ... and Naari was the same. Aside from a handful of occasions, Kiva rarely saw Jaren without Naari, as if she had taken it upon herself to oversee his movements within the prison, even during his free time. That level of attention ... ofdedication...

“What’s with the look?” Jaren asked, squinting at Kiva.

She tried to clear her expression, but wasn’t sure if she succeeded. “Nothing.” She swiveled back to Naari and said, “I don’t mind who escorts me, really.”

If given the choice between Naari and one of the other guards, like Bones or the Butcher, thenof courseKiva would choose the amber-eyed woman. But unlike Jaren, she wasn’t about to risk making a personal request.

“I’ll speak with Rooke,” Naari repeated, her voice firm enough that Kiva knew to drop it. She had no idea why the guard was being so cooperative, since there was absolutely nothing in it for her.

... Except, perhaps, Jaren.

The thought left a sick taste in Kiva’s mouth, but she refused to consider why. Instead, she summoned the last dregs of her courage and said to the guard, “The sooner, the better.”

Naari nodded, and before Kiva could say anything else, Jaren yelped and sprang away from the workbench.

“What the—” He bit off halfway through his curse with an embarrassed laugh as he caught sight of the soot-gray cat who had snuck out of a hidey-hole in the medicine cabinet and brushed up against him. “Well, hello. Who’s this?”

Kiva had to press her lips together to keep from laughing, his jumpy reaction making her feel better about her own skittish nature.

“That’s B-B-Boots,” Tipp said, pointing to her four white paws in explanation of the name.

When Jaren started moving back toward the cat with his hand outstretched, Kiva’s amusement fled and she warned, “Careful, she’s moody.”

Jaren’s eyes were dancing as he replied, “She must be yours.”

Tipp cackled, Naari snickered, and Kiva glared at all three of them.

“Haven’t you m-met her yet?” Tipp asked around his mirth.

Jaren inched closer to the bench again, and Kiva didn’t warn him off this time. Instead, she shifted further away from the cat, keeping a safe distance.

“I’ve seen her around the prison,” Jaren answered Tipp, “but I just figured she was a stray who came and went.”

Tipp shook his head. “She’s lived here f-forever. Longer than m-me.” He indicated where Boots’s tail should have been, but there was only a stumped end. “See her tail? She lost it j-just after I arrived. There was a riot and some of the p-prisoners slammed a d-door shut on her.”

Jaren winced. “Ouch.”

“Kiva had to p-patch her up,” Tipp continued sharing, his fatigue having faded with his walk down memory lane.

“You treat animals, too?” Jaren asked, brows raised. “A woman of many talents.”

“Little thanks I get for it,” Kiva said, ignoring the fluttery feeling of his praise. “She was a devil catbeforethe accident, and she’s hated me even more ever since. I can’t go anywhere near her now without being scratched to death.”

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