The Alpha Territories, chapter one

Sienna It’s been fifteen years since the Veil between us and them fell. Fifteen years since humans realized we were no longer at the top of the food chain in the most literal of senses. The thin, iron handcuffs pinching my wrists were chained to the next girl in front of me, and because she had to keep walking, so did I.

I had to remind myself that I let them catch me. That this was where I needed to be to find Jordan. He’d been taken in the last raid over on fifth street, during the hours that I was dancing.

I couldn’t let him go without a fight. Without trying to get him back. He was the closest thing to a little brother that I had, and the fact that he’d been stolen out from under me . . . my guts tensed and I tried not to think about it.

Four lines of women, all shackled together. I was in the third line to the right, trying to see past the bodies ahead of me. “Why are we stopped?”

“Who knows?”

“Maybe they’ll let us go?”

A laugh answered that question. Another time I might have laughed with them. I’d always enjoyed gallows humor.

This time, though, the gallows were a little too close for comfort. For just a moment the rain eased off, almost to a drizzle, but the sound of water falling caught my ear. I turned my head to the line of girls on my right, shuffling along the same as us.

All shades of hair, all under thirty by the looks of it. But it was the brunette closest to me that I locked my eyes on. She didn’t even look up as her bladder emptied, soaking the filthy, white dress she wore.

Her knees trembled as the smell of urine, strong even in the muck and rain, filled the air. “Chin up,”

I said softly, “nothing is set in stone. I’ll bet that a lot of us end up just as maids.”

That was my hope. Become a maid to the shifters, and then I’d find Jordan and we’d make our escape. At least I’d been able to figure out that much—I knew which part of the territories he’d been taken to.

The girl’s dark eyes swept my way, the tears in them spilling over. “My older brother sold me to pay off his gambling debt. My mom couldn’t stop him with the new rules. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t . . . I can’t do this.”

A bolt of fury shot through me at her words. What had this world come to? Since the Veil had fallen and the “Others” had taken control, life for us humans had been in a slow, downward spiral.

These past couple of years, though? A straight nosedive. As much as I’d love to blame that all on the Others, turned out humans were just as monstrous as the creatures that hunted us.

Brothers selling sisters, husbands sacrificing wives, brokers auctioning people like cattle, to the highest bidder. But I wasn’t here to change the world. I was here to find my friend and get us both the fuck back home.

I blew out a slow, shaky breath and laid my hand on the girl’s lower back, giving her what little comfort I could. “I’m sorry, honey. I really am. But you will be okay, I’m sure of it. You’ll be fine.”

Of course I had no belief in such assurances. Not really. Not with all the stories that came out of the territories.

Blood and death. Torture and rape. You couldn’t really call that a fairy tale waiting to happen, no matter what the powers that be tried to convince the General populace.

“I’m sure your brother—”

“He doesn’t care about me. And my mom didn’t even try that hard. I’m one less mouth to feed.”

She wrung her hands together, over and over, her cuffs clinking. Jesus, and I thought I had it bad. At least my parents had the decency to die on me before they saw me here, like this.

Chained up and being sent to the auction pens like an animal. The sound of retching ahead of us echoed down the line, a cascade effect as other girls were triggered by the sight and noise. “Shite,”

I hissed the word and grit my teeth, looking away. This was not the time to show weakness. I’d been assured by one of the pen guards who frequented the bar I danced at that the next shipment was going to the werewolves.

The shifters. It was their turn for new girls and boys. Which meant it was my one shot to get to Jordan.

I had a boat lined up to meet us, two months from the day I went into the territories. I touched the beaded bracelet on my wrist. I’d started with sixty beads.

I’d remove one a day to keep myself on track. If I couldn’t find Jordan by the last day. . . I’d have to leave without him.

But I refused to even consider that as a possibility. Ahead of me, the young brunette trembled so hard that her body rattled the chains connecting her to the girl in front of her, and to me behind. Still, she shuffled along.

A tug on my own chains got me moving forward, but the brown-eyed girl needed a lifeline. I could be that for her, for at least a few minutes. “Hey. My name is Sienna. What’s your name?”

“Hannah.”

She hiccupped a sob. “You really think a lot of us will be maids? I don’t want to go with the wolves. Or the blood. . .suckers.”

Her voice lowered and she shook her head rapidly, as if straight denial would save her. Our four groups kept on shuffling along through the mud made from thousands of feet being pushed into the pens since our treaty with the Alpha Territories over a decade before. That treaty was simple.

Our side offered human sacrifices in exchange for relative peace from those that could destroy us if they chose. They could come replenish their supply as needed from the mainland, so long as they didn’t create chaos by swooping in and creating terror and mayhem on the streets. Vampires, werewolves, fae, demon and the fallen were not allowed to roam freely here.

Supposedly. A shudder rippled through me. “I think you’ll have a shot at being with the fae, or maybe even the winged guys. You’re very pretty, and beauty is highly prized there.”

At least, from what I understood. To be fair, I didn’t know a lot about the pens—people who went in didn’t come back to tell the tales—but Hannah didn’t have to know that. And she also didn’t have to know that we were all going to the wolves.

No point in adding to her panic. The crack of thunder above our heads was followed by a brilliant flash of lightning that cast the lines of girls into stark relief on the shoreline pens. “How did you get here?”

Hannah asked through her hiccupping sobs. “You have an accent. Where are you from?”

I smiled, though it felt odd when I wanted to have my own little breakdown. Because reality was setting in. Two months.

I had two months to find Jordan and get us both out. “My parents died not long after the Veil fell and the world went to shit. I was in an orphanage in London for close to ten years before they said I was on my own. I’ve just been . . .making my way across North America ever since.”

Always there was a pull to keep moving, to keep going. I didn’t stay in any city long. Just long enough to make some money dancing so me and Jordan could move again.

Lather, rinse, repeat. Staying in one spot was a fool’s errand and a good way to draw attention to you. Especially at my age.

A few more years and I’d be outside the range of what Collectors were looking for. “Were you looking for a safe place?”

Hannah asked. “Looking for something, I guess.”

I shrugged and forced a smile to my lips. A something I couldn’t define, but I felt it inside of me, whispering that I was closer every day. Whispering that there was someone out there looking for me, as hard as I was looking for them.

Fanciful thinking, I know. I blinked and made myself smile at Hannah. “I was here in Seattle, trying to find an old school friend,” that part was true, too, “Rose. That’s her name. We were in the orphanage together back in London. Anyway, I got caught up in one of the Collectors’ sweeps of the downtown area.”

That last part was not quite true. I’d gotten very good at avoiding the sweeps, but this time I let them catch me. For Jordan.

“Oh. So you really have bad luck, then, huh?”

I choked out a laugh. “Oh, honey, you have no idea.”

Perhaps it was my laugh that turned my luck that day, calling down the wrath of some unknown god by my lack of humility. Because I believed I could outsmart the supernaturals that had claimed our world as their own. Maybe if I’d been more sober, more demure, I wouldn’t have ended up facing my worst nightmare.

A hand clamped down on my arm, and I spun to face a large, portly man, his gut hanging out from beneath a too-small shirt that was bursting at the seams under a thick pelt vest that was also too small. As it was, he looked like a sausage stuffed too tight and growing long mold. The fur trim on his vest along with a patch emblazoned with the head of a wolf marked him as a liaison for the shifters.

I had to fight the sigh of relief. Closer and closer—it wouldn’t be long before I was with Jordan. “You, in this pen over here,” he growled, roughly uncuffing me.

Above us, the thunder barked like a junkyard dog, booming out a warning, the lightning sparked, and the skies opened up. A sudden torrent of rain fell as if someone upended a bucket on our heads. The northwest was known for its shitty weather, but this was a bit much.

I held a hand up to the sky and flipped off the clouds. I mean, at this rate, there very well could be some other race up there just jerking us around. Not that we didn’t have enough as it was.

Fae. Werewolves. Angels.

Demons. And the worst of them all, in my opinion? Vampires.

They had been at the front of the lines when the war started after the Veil fell. Not that the war lasted long. No, not long at all.

The combined might of the five races, their magic, and control over the elements had put us, humans, in our place in a matter of weeks. The world governments and NATO had begged for a plea bargain, and this was what we’d been given. An exchange system—a few lives sacrificed to spare the majority.

I lifted my hand to the chain-link fence that surrounded us. A perfectly round pen that held twenty-five women. “Oye now, listen up! We got one pen for sex. One pen for food. One pen for slaves. And the last. . . the last you did not want to be in.”

The fat vested man laughed. “Always the same. Chum. You don’t want to be in that last pen.”

Chum. My heart lurched. “Fuck me,”

I whispered. I hadn’t known that was an option. The portly one walked around the cages, speaking loud enough to be heard over the thunder and rain.

“Twenty-five women will go onto the same boat as the rest of you. But instead of setting foot onto the Empire Territories, they will be cast into the ocean over the deep of the Pacific Ocean.”

“What, why?”

A woman in the pen across from us wailed. “Why would they throw us over board? Why not just send us back home if we’re of no use?”

More laughter from the fat man. “Food for the supernatural creatures of the deep my dear. They have appetites too, you know—another part of the bargain. Just one that nobody likes to make public, you got it? No telling our secrets.”

His laugh rolled around us. “Ah, I forgot none of you will be able to tell anyone our secrets!”

Horror flickered through me and it was a struggle to stay on my feet. I thought I’d be made a servant at best. A concubine or part of a harem at worse.

I had a plan in place for that possibility. Peeing myself would look like child’s play compared to what I was prepared to do to make myself undesirable. Now though?

That had all changed because of one. Single. Word.

Chum. Chum hadn’t even been on my list of ‘what-could-happen-if-you-go-after-Jordan’. Because no one came back from the pens to tell the tales.

I clutched at the fence and breathed through the oncoming panic, focusing on the sense in my head that this was the right thing to do. I had to go after Jordan. He needed me.

A soft, melodic voice from one of the other women began to rise around us as the rain rolled down over our bodies, slicking hair, skin, and clothes alike. I wrapped my arms around me for a little warmth and let the haunting tune give me a moment of peace as it echoed across the stinking pens. “One hundred women brought to the pens One hundred cast the dice Not all will leave alive, but all give sacrifice To keep the peace To stop the flow of blood One hundred women, our tears that flood Each phase that comes, your turn is soon, A thousand tears, for the fullest moon.”

“Get that singer over here,” a booming voice cracked over the storm around us.

“The bidders want entertainment.”

And just like that, one of us was saved. For the moment, at least. Because she played the game right.

She’d charmed them. “Double shite,”

I muttered. Unless the bidders wanted a girl with a mouth full of English cursing and an affinity for finding trouble, I was in deep. It never occurred to me that I’d have to come up with a damn talent like singing when I’d let the Collectors take me.

I’d figured they get a look, realize I was far from the beauties they wanted, and I’d be a maid to a pack of barking boys. Easy peasy. Before I could go much further down that line of thought, someone tugged on my shirt.

I turned to see Hannah behind me, her brown eyes wide and shocky, her skin as pale as cream. Without even considering that I barely knew her, I threw my arms around her and held her tight—maybe needing the contact as much as she did in that moment. Her slight body shook hard against mine, and she buried her face against my shoulder.

“I’m so afraid. Sienna, what can we do? I can’t even swim! Never mind sing, or . . .”

The other women around us watched as I did my best to soothe her. “I know. All of us are in the same boat, honey. All we can do now is make the best of it.”

“The best of it?” a growling voice snapped from across the pen.

“There is no best of it you stupid girl. A woman who was probably younger than she looked approached us. Her once-blonde hair was tangled and knotted and a chunk had been pulled out from the side of her head, leaving a raw-looking bald spot She limped heavily on her right leg. “This place is death, even if you don’t get tossed into the ocean as passage.” Hannah blinked. “As passage?” “That’s the price the boat pays, to bring the rest of the girls to the Territories. Chum. You heard the fat boy over there.” She smiled, showing off amazingly white, even teeth that stood out in stark relief against her dirty face. “But you think if you don’t go into the ocean, you’ll live long? The werewolves, they have their games. Hunting the humans they take. The fae look at us like bugs, insects to be squashed or stuffed into jars if we are interesting enough to bother studying.” Her voice gained power as the women around us went silent, listening to her. “And the angels? They are no better than their demon cousins. Light and dark, two kinds of demons that only want to destroy your soul, leaving your body to rot.” She lifted a hand to me and pointed to my hair, daring to snag a long strand of it. “But it’s the vampires that be the worst. We all know that. They drink our blood. They fuck us senseless. And then, when they are tired of us, they feed us to their pets. Abominations of their own making. Dragon-like creatures they call Hunters. More like devourers, I say. Hunting implies that us prey have a fighting chance to get away.” My hands were cold now, the rain pelting down was turning icy, but it barely ed as the woman’s words sunk deep into my heart, shaking what confidence I had left. “How do you even know this? You haven’t been there. Or you wouldn’t be here.” I pointed out and a few of the other woman murmured their agreement. The woman snorted. “My man was one of the port guards. He knows. He knows the stories, and he whispered them to me.” “How’d you end up here then?” A redhead with bright blue eyes said. “If you’ve been fucking a port guard why aren’t you safe?” The blonde’s lips pursed. “Because he decided he wanted to be rid of me and an unwanted child.” She smoothed her top over a slightly bulging little belly. “Easiest way, I suppose.” Beside me, Hannah shook so hard she dropped to her knees. “I . . . I’m not strong enough. I can’t do this, Sienna. I can’t. My mother told me . . .that there is always a way out.” Her words didn’t make sense. I turned toward her as she lifted a hand to her hair. My brain struggled to process her words as she tugged a pin from her brown locks. Long, slender, and shaved to a deadly point. Her eyes met mine. “Be brave for us both, Sienna.” In one, swift motion, she drove the pointed hairpin into the side of her throat. She gurgled, toppling to one side before pulling the pin free. Blood spurted from the wound as I dropped to my knees next to her. “Hannah, no!” I pressed my hands to her throat, but it was too late. She’d severed an artery, and her hot blood slicked my icy hands. A series of screams went up around me as Hannah’s eyes met mine one last time, her mouth moving without sound. Be brave. Be brave. Be brave. I saw the moment she died, the light flickering out of her dark brown eyes, the pupils fading in the strangest of ways. As though a cloud had slid over her vision as her soul left her. “Get off ‘er!” Rough, calloused hands grabbed me by the shoulder, and I was flung away from Hannah, into the mud and piss and shit of the pens. I turned on my hands and knees to see the Pen Wardens drag Hannah out by her ankle. “One for the chum, that’s easy enough,” the one dragging her barked. I closed my eyes and fought back the tears. Not because Hannah didn’t deserve my grief, but…she was right. I had to be brave for both of us. Both me and Jordan. I could almost hear his voice now, building me up the way he always did. “If anyone can do it, you can, Ceecee.” I dug my hands into the mud to push myself up, and there under my palm was something narrow, hard, metallic. I clenched my hand around what could only be the hairpin that Hannah had snuck past the guards. Of course no weapons were allowed, but she’d gotten this through. Pulling it carefully out of the mud, I wiped it on my shirt, cleaning the worst of the filth and Hannah’s blood off it. The golden hairpin had a butterfly etched into the thickest part. “Head toward the light, butterfly girl,” I whispered as I reached back and twisted up the thick mass of my hair and slid the pin through it. A weapon, however small, might give me the edge I needed. And perhaps it would give Hannah’s horrible death some sort of meaning if I managed to stay alive, find Jordan and escape. “Oye, all of yous. Line up.” Moldy Sausage Man with the furred vest was back. A tiny bit of hope flared. He looked exactly as you’d expect someone working for the werewolf clans would look if his clothing and the distinct smell of wet dogs emanating from him were any indication. It had to be the wolves bidding on us then. Hold tight, Ceecee. Almost there. I was on my feet in a flash and fell into line with the others. This was not the moment to tip my hand that I was different from the other women. That I had a purpose. That I had a reason to be there. It would come, I just had to be patient. I let a slow breath out and took a step, then another as my turn came. Portly boy held his hand up. “Name, age, any talents?” Now, I should have known better, but the fear and shock made me . . .impertinent. “Is this the Miss America contest? I didn’t bring my bikini.” I fake gasped and put a hand to my mouth. “Goodness, whatever will I do?” For being such a big man, he moved fast. His hand snaked out and he clapped me on the side of the head, quite literally ringing my bell. “Name, age, talents. Now, unless you want to go straight into the chum bin with your little friend over there.” He grabbed my head and twisted it so I had no choice but to look at poor Hannah, crumpled in a heap in between the pens. Her glazed eyes stared back at me. For just a moment I saw Jordan there instead, crumpled, his eyes lifeless. No, no I refused to believe he was gone. “Sienna, twenty-one.” I paused, struggling to find something I was good at. Sure, dancing was on that short list, but what would werewolves want? “I’m…um, good with animals?” He let out a snort of disgust before shoving me along. “Follow the others. Good fucking luck with a talent like that.” That was it. No other direction. And then, I was pushed down a narrow path between pens of weeping women. I bowed my head, a mixture of outrage and sorrow racing through me. The tears leaking from my eyes were hot, scalding my cold skin as I trudged up a low set of stairs and stood on a platform. I tried to see into the gallery of seats before us but floodlights along the floor blazed to life, effectively blinding us to anyone or anything else besides each other. “They took men to the wolves last month, so it’ll be us women now to the same pack.” “How can you be sure?” I looked around to see the woman who’d claimed to be sleeping with one of the guards. “Because Robbie told me so,” she replied with a smirk, once more touching her belly. “Best he could do for me. They like breeders over in the wolf packs.” I looked at her belly, and a cold swell of unease gripped me. Was Robbie the kind of man who actually wanted to help his baby mama, or was he the kind to try and get rid of her in a more permanent sense? The women in front of me shifted from foot to foot in the silence. The frantic whispers started, but I could hear the low murmur of male voices in the audience and the creaking of chairs from below. The bidders. The werewolves. They could see us, but we couldn’t see them. Heart pounding, I strained to get a look at them. “Can anyone see them?” I asked. Someone shushed me, but a fresh and all-encompassing sense of dread swept through me. I had to see the bidders. I carefully worked my way through the rows of women, not that anyone tried to stop me. No one wanted to be on that front row. Except idiot me. I stopped at the edge of the platform and stared out into the inky darkness, desperation clawing at my throat. If I could just get a look at them, maybe this awful terror would subside a little. Just when I thought I couldn’t take it another second, one of them stepped forward into the light. My mouth opened and closed soundlessly as I stared down at a man I’d seen all too often in my dreams. Eyes the color of dark chocolate, hair as black as midnight, a face that could surely have been carved into stone by Michelangelo himself… In every dream I’d had of him, I’d run. He’d always caught me, his hands around my throat, his anger palpable, even in my sleep. Worse than all of that . . . Fangs, gleaming in the light like polished pearls, sharpened and honed for murder just peeking past the bottom of his top lip. “Oh, fuck,” I whispered. Any hope I’d had evaporated as horror rolled through me. Not only was I being sold off to the most sadistic creatures in all of the Empire of Magic. Now I knew that the monster of my nightmares had been brought to life. And I couldn’t escape him by waking up.