Page 17 of Sergi
He gave me a long look. His jaw was firm in his once handsome face. A scar ran from his left forehead across his face to the right side of his chin. However he’d gotten it, something or someone had stopped him from shifting, otherwise a shift would have prevented the scarring. His lips were set in a scowl, but when I met his gaze, something in his bright green eyes gave me pause. He was either sizing me up or perhaps looking for something else. An ally?
Interesting. But his threat still hung in the air. I lowered my gaze and nodded. “I understand.”
I walked behind him as he gave me the tour.
“Each level has quarters for the guards. They include private rooms, a cafeteria, lounge, and game room.” This side of level three had white walls and tiled floors rather than the rough-hewn stone that encompassed the rest of the level. He opened one of the private rooms. It was surprisingly spacious and included a single bed, wider and longer than the cots in the cells, and the mattress was thicker, a galley kitchen, a dining table and chairs, and an entertainment center with a small sofa.
“The bathrooms and showers are communal.” Dallas stopped at one. “There are two in the quarter’s area and two bathrooms without showers in the cell area.”
He showed me the storage closet where the cleaning supplies and linen were stored. The cleaning of the guard’s room included removing the used sheets and providing clean ones. The guards made their own beds. I was responsible for removing the trash and replacing the wastebasket liners, but the guards were expected to do their own sweeping and dusting. That was something. Otherwise, they’d need a full-time maid to thoroughly clean all the rooms.
However, once we started through the rooms, only twelve of the twenty available rooms were occupied. Twelve guards for how many prisoners? I’d soon find out. I stored away the information, along with the discovery of a security room and armory, both requiring key cards.
The quarters took two hours to clean while Dallas explained the routine. It would be faster once I was on my own.
The detention cells were just as I remembered them. Cold, dank, and held nothing more than a thin pallet on the floor and a bucket for waste. In this area, I was assigned a cart. It held a large tub where I dumped the buckets of shifter waste. After scraping out any remaining food in a second container, the bowls and trays were stacked on two top racks. The thirdcontainer held fresh water to refill the one plastic tumbler each shifter was allowed.
“The shifters are rotated through here frequently. When a cell becomes available, you’ll need to sweep it out and replace the pallet.”
The used pallets were set on the bottom rack of the cart. The cleaned pallets were on the middle shelf. It made sense to change out the pallets. They wouldn’t want to spend time dealing with pest control. That was why all shifters were bathed every twenty-one days. They must have determined that was the longest they could go before lice or other infestations occurred.
Before we went into the first cell, Dallas pulled me aside.
“We currently have twenty-two shifters in this area. There are six main corridors and various side tunnels. Before you start on a new hallway, a guard will check each room to ensure the shifter has been restrained. Don’t dawdle in the rooms. Once you’re done with a corridor, you need to check with the guard in the next corridor to ensure the cells are safe.” Again with the strange look in his eyes. “Do you understand the importance of that?”
I met his gaze, searching to understand what I saw—concern, warning, or information that I wasn’t sure what to do with. All I said was, “Yes.”
Chapter Eight
“You’re worried.”
Sergi glanced over his shoulder when the soft tones of his mother’s voice reached him then turned back to stare at the Family’s orchard. He stood on the balcony, just outside the dining hall, still in his battle armor.
“Father isn’t listening to reason.” His anger rose, and he took a deep breath, not wanting to take it out on his mother. She’d tried to talk sense into the old male more times than he had. But Father was the House leader, a weak male who depended far too much on the grace of their allied Houses and was easily swayed by false promises.
“He’s only doing what he thinks best to save our ancestors’ land.”
“Why do you do this? Protect him when you know he’s wrong.”
Her hand was warm when she placed it in his. “Because he’s the House leader not just my husband.”
“He cares more for land than he does his Family. You’re outnumbered, and House Meinstein will show no mercy.”
“Your Father believes House Braun will send warriors.”
Sergi shook his head. “House Braun is battling on another front and any army he can send is days away. House Meinstein will be here by the morrow.” He turned around and took her hand. “Please. Take Lizet and Greta and leave for Linz. If by some miracle the House isn’t taken, you can return when it’s safe.”
She looked up at him, sorrow in her gaze. After a long moment, she turned to view the same landscape he’d been staring at for the last hour, thinking of another way out. When her hand slipped from his, he knew it was no use.
“It would shame him. It would show disrespect in his time of need.”
Sergi took a step back. “Is his pride worth the life of Lizet and Greta? Worth your life with this foolishness?”
He saw the pain in her eyes. She was caught in the middle like so many others. Unable to consider their own welfare over Father’s.
“Can’t you stay and help?” Her voice cracked, already knowing the answer.
“I’m not in Father’s army, remember? He traded me to another House. My commitment is to my new leader. I only came here as a last resort to change Father’s mind.” He paused, gripping her hand again though she tried to pull it away. “And if that didn’t work, to give you an option to save yourselves.”
