Chronicles of the Uprising (Trilogy 1): Trilogy 1 (6 page)

A group of five handlers came to a sudden halt in front of the Elite. Masks covered their faces, so Mira couldn’t see the expressions, but the surprise and shock was clear in their gasps.

“Regent,” the lead guard called out, bowing his head immediately. “Are you okay?”

Regent?
That’s where she’d seen him before. From her vantage point down in the arena, she’d never gotten a good look at his face, but she remembered seeing the man eating his steak at the last battle. He was as Elite as you could get in the Iron Gate. Second only to the Magistrate who ruled over all the human cities, he was top dog. Why the hell was he helping her? Now Mira’s curiosity was really piqued.

“Thank you for the quick response, Handlers. But the situation is under control. I’m just having a little chat here with, I’m sorry, what was your name?”

No human ever asked her that before. Her handlers called her by her cell number; her master called her slave. The rest of the world called her gladiator. Why was this human, this Elite, pretending to be so nice to her? “Uh… Mira.”

One of the Handlers grasped his UV torch and took a step toward the pair.

The Regent smiled congenially. “Thank you, Mira. Yes, I was having a little chat with her about conditions in the lower cell block.” He tightened his grasp on her arm as he addressed the armed Handlers. The warmth of his large hand felt deliciously wrong on her cold skin.

“Sir, please step away from the vampire.” The lead handler held his UV torch up at the ready. Behind him the other handlers had their weapons raised as well.

“Ease up, gentlemen. We’re fine. But, if you’ll escort us, I need to return Mira to her place now.”

No one would dare to disobey an Elite. Grumbling behind their masks, they trained their UV torches on Mira, no doubt longing for the opportunity to blast her with them. The lead Handler looked down to his wrist and punched in a code on a thick electronic bracer, his com-link. “Central. We’ve found the missing gladiator. Returning her to the lower cell block now.”

A few moments of static followed by another voice confirming what had been said. A second later the alarms silenced. Mira was never more thankful. Their shrill screams were extra annoying to her enhanced hearing.

The head guard waved them forward. “This way, sir.”  He led them down the corridor to the left.

The Regent, still grasping Mira’s arm firmly, set the slow pace as they walked back to her cell.

All eyes were on them — human security and vampire alike — as they walked quietly through the cell block. Some vampires stood from their mattresses and gasped as Mira passed their cells, being handled by the Regent himself.

“Code, please,” the Regent demanded as they reached Mira’s cell.

The guard lifted his wrist and punched a few buttons on his com-link bracer, and then entered the ten digit code into the lock panel.

Mira noticed immediately that the tones had changed. She did not have to look down to know that the code was different.
Damn, they were quick!
The cell doors opened and the Regent released Mira. For the first time in years, rather than being tossed, shoved, or thrown down, Mira casually walked into her own cell. The experience was quite novel.

“We will talk again very soon. Do you have a Patron?” The Elite’s congenial tone continued to shock her, even more than the fact that he’d asked her Patron status. Again his curious moss-green eyes met hers without animosity. This man was a complete conundrum to her. And he wanted to see her again? Possibly be her Patron?

Taken aback, Mira stuttered, trying to find the words. “N…sorry… no, I don’t.”

“I will speak with your Owner.” With that, the Elite turned and walked away.

The cell doors closed, but Mira remained standing where she was, dumbfounded.

Time moved slowly for Mira. Running the events of the evening through her mind, she stared up at the ceiling as if it might somehow hold some answers for her. She should be dead. Or at the very least strung up in the Hall of Punishment awaiting her next torture. Instead, she had been allowed to return to her cell, unharmed and unpunished, with a potential offer of patronage. There had to be something else going on.

Soft bells chimed seven times, marking the hour. Morning. Not that it made any difference to Mira. Even if she could stand the sunlight, she was still a creature of the night. She should be sleeping. She needed sleep. There was no telling what the day would bring, and it was in her best interest to be rested and ready for action.

Mira tried to convince herself to relax. Tried to order her mind to clear. It almost worked, until she heard the creak of metal doors opening. Someone was coming, and not just any someone. Mira expected the worst when she heard her Owner’s fast paced clip-clop echoing down the corridor. She’d rather deal with her handlers or go another round in the training arena with Tegan before dealing with Olivia.

“What the hell did you do this time?” Angry and demanding, Olivia’s shrill call pierced the early morning silence.

Mira had too many questions running through her head at that point and no answers, or at least no good answer for herself or Olivia. She knew no matter what she said, it was bound to aggravate her already annoyed Owner anyway.

Before Mira could form a coherent sentence for her Owner, Olivia barked, “Talk. Now. I want to know everything that happened.” Her foot tapped out an impatient rhythm on the concrete floor.

Mira didn’t have to look up to know her Owner would be staring her down, hands on her hips, positively seething with anger. Not because she was upset that Mira had not answered her yet. That was simply Olivia’s normal stance when dealing with Mira. Rather than stand on ceremony, she continued to lie on her mattress. “I tried to escape. I got caught. I’m awaiting punishment.”

“Oh, and I wish I could give it. Trust me, you troublesome little leech. Do you know how much that escape attempt of yours cost me?”

Olivia’s tone was dangerous, but Mira just couldn’t help herself, now that she knew she was in the clear.

“You’re good for it,” Mira said, not bothering to hide her smile.

“Oh, I can afford it, but you’ll be the one paying back the damages.” Olivia’s angry voice had suddenly turned wicked. She laughed, and that piqued Mira’s interest.

She sat up and looked at her Owner. “The usual pound of flesh I assume? Can we postpone the tanning salon until after my nap? I’m a bit tired at the moment.” She knew she shouldn’t have said it, but she just couldn’t help herself. She loved getting a rise out of her Owner – or any human, for that matter.

“You think you’re untouchable, don’t you? That’s all about to change. You’ll learn a new meaning of the word ‘touched’ soon enough. Well, after you’re prepped, of course.”

Prepped?

Olivia sounded as if she were truly enjoying this new devious plan of torture. Mira chanced a glance up to her Owner’s face. A smile, twisted and cruel, met her, and the glint in Olivia’s hazel eyes said that Mira was in for a whole new world of trouble she’d yet to encounter.

“You got yourself a Patron, dearie.”

Olivia must have mistaken her gasp as a sign of fright because she cackled loud enough to wake George in the cell next to her.

He really followed through?
Fear was the farthest thing from her mind. She’d service anyone she had to in order to get a little comfort at this point. No, shock had stolen her ability to express anything at that moment. Mira couldn’t believe the Elite had actually followed through. There had to be something she was missing, some angle, some reason. Humans never did anything nice… not without an ulterior motive.

“And a rich one at that. So, you had better be on your best behavior and do whatever he wants. And I do mean anything that he wants, whatever, wherever, and however. Do you hear me?”

Mira heard her all right, and more than that, she heard the dollar signs in her Owner’s voice. “He’s called for you to meet him later tonight, so I need to have you prepped and ready.” That brought another wicked smile to her Owner’s face.

Mira wasn’t sure what being prepped entailed, but it couldn’t be any worse than the lightbox. “Bring on your worst.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Escorted by her two handlers, with Olivia leading the way, Mira was ushered to a place referred to affectionately by George as the ‘spa.’

The inside of the spa was a place Mira had never before earned the privilege of seeing. She’d expected it to look lavish. George had made it sound positively magical, but other than the strange stations with equipment she couldn’t imagine the uses for, the place was just as dreary as the rest of the prison. Flat gray walls, black and white tile floors, and thick steel doors at the entrance and exit. Curiously, there was one door — more like a window — in the back corner of the room that was not steel like the rest.  It was made of a thick pane of glass and led into a small room completely covered in tile, just big enough for a single person to stand in.

She’d never seen such an odd space.

The butt of a UV torch hit her in the back. “Move,” the handler ordered.

A woman dressed in a skin-tight black full body suit sauntered up to Olivia. She looked down at her clipboard and ran a long red manicured fingernail down the page. “You’re the works, right?”

 Olivia smirked at Mira before answering. “I want her showered, plucked, shaved, trimmed, and for the love of god, do something with those nails. She has a wealthy Patron to impress.”

“You heard the client. Get this leech ready to be presented to her Patron.” She snapped her fingers, and two other humans, females in matching black body suits, appeared seemingly out of thin air and rushed forward.

A shiver of fear raced down Mira’s spine. Torture she could endure, even if that meant more time in the lightbox, but this “works” treatment her Owner had ordered — waxing, plucking, nails, and whatever else it entailed — scared the hell out of her.

Without another word, her dirty tunic was ripped from her body and tossed aside like the garbage it was.

Mira had to fight the instinct to lash out at the trio of women stripping her down and scrutinizing her naked body. She’d love to wipe their smug expressions right off their pretty little faces. Perhaps rip out their tightly braided ponytails and strangle them; but she knew she’d never get away with it. She’d just have to ignore their taunts and whispered comments about her filthy condition.

Once the trio was done inspecting her, they ushered her toward the strange tile room. “We’ll have her washed and ready by seven this evening,” Mira heard one say as the glass door opened and she was pushed inside.

A low clicking sound ran up the walls seconds before the jets began. Hot water and steam assaulted her from every angle. The initial shock and hot sting subsided and Mira relaxed, letting the water wash away the grime. Showers were a luxury only afforded to vampires with additional funding, something she’d never earned. Until now, bathing for her had consisted of a lukewarm bucket of water and a rag.

Another set of clicks ran up the wall behind the tiles and the spray turned soapy. It foamed on her skin, carrying a subtle hint of orange blossom and citrus, a smell that reminded her of the orange groves that had grown near her home as a human. The foam seemed to expand on her skin, growing as it if it were feeding on the dirt clinging to her body. The sensation was shocking and intriguing at the same time. She could see why George enjoyed coming to this place. They might have been rude, but this shower alone made up for it. Never before had she felt so pampered.

Another click, and the deliciously hot water returned and melted away the foamy bubbles encasing her body. The water not only took with it the dirt and grime, but melted away some of the stress and tension in her body. Try as she might, it was hard to remain alert and on edge while the heat and pressure of the water worked its magic on her muscles. 

When the shower finished, hot air filled the chamber, blowing like a cyclone in the small room. Shocking and sudden, it startled Mira, but just like with the water, the heat of the wind had a soothing effect that made it hard for her to remain on edge. She took a breath and let the warm air do its thing and dry the beads of water from her body.

Just when she thought she was finished in the shower, one final jet gently spritzed some kind of citrus-scented oil on her.

The clicks behind the tile stopped, and the glass door opened by itself. Mira turned and stepped out of the box, making no attempt to cover herself, and awaited her next instruction.

A wicked smile played in her Owner’s sharp features. “Well, now, at least you don’t stink. But you’re far from ready to present to your Patron.” She turned to the trio of women. “I’ll be back at seven to retrieve her.” Not waiting for confirmation, she and the two handlers walked out through the steel doors.

The shower had been quite refreshing, Mira thought. She hoped the rest of these treatments would be just as pleasant. George had spoken highly of this place. Perhaps it was not as bad as she feared.

“What’s next?” Mira asked.

One of the trio of women held up a jar of melted wax. “Hair removal.”

The unusually eager way she said it stole away Mira’s feelings of relaxation and contentment. This, she knew, would not be as nice as the shower had been.

Hours later, plucked, tweezed, waxed, and threaded, Mira had endured the removal of every hair on her body. What hair remained, on top of her head, had been washed, cut, and styled so that her short hair framed around her face. Rather than the tunic and linen pants she was accustomed to wearing, Mira had been given a proper dress. Knee-length, the black and pink sheath dress felt unbelievably soft. Nothing like what she was used to wearing. They’d even given her shoes to wear. Those, however, were not as comfortable as her sandals had been. Tight and toe-pinching, these shoes had heels that made her feel as if she was walking on stilts. If you could call what she was doing ‘walking’ – more like trying hard not to fall with each wobbly step she took.

By the time Olivia returned to retrieve her, Mira was almost unrecognizable.

“That’ll do,” Olivia said, with no hint as to whether or not she actually approved. “Let’s get you moving.”