Hunted by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #3)(32)

“Sergeant.” The tiger shifter saluted, and his dark brows furrowed as he took us in. “How can I help you?”

“We’ve got newcomers, and I’m assigning one of them to your barracks.” Sergeant Brun motioned Fenris forward. “Recruit, this is Private Faresh Malara. Private, this is Felix Lamos, who is here on probation. Show him around and get him settled, then bring him to the mess hall for lunch.”

“How much do you want to bet this is Daresh’s brother?” I asked Fenris as unease shifted through my stomach.

“I would be willing to put significant coin down on that.” Fenris didn’t look my way, but I could sense his own discomfort. “I can only hope that he never finds his brother, at least not until we are gone.”

“Yes, sir.” Faresh saluted, then led Fenris into the house. I cursed silently as I watched them disappear, wishing that I’d slit Daresh’s throat after all. The last thing I needed was Fenris being killed in his sleep for revenge.

We’re just going to have to get out of here fast, I told myself as we followed Sergeant Brun through the rows of houses.

He stopped at a small, single-story shack at the end of one of the rows. There was no porch or false front, and the windows were boarded up, but the siding looked okay and I didn’t see any obvious holes in the roof. I waited for the sergeant to knock on the door, but instead he opened it and walked right inside.

Annia and I exchanged a glance, then hurried inside after him. Peering into the dim interior, which was lit only by the rays of light seeping through the cracks of the boarded-up windows, I saw that it was a single-room dwelling, with two cots set up on opposite sides of the room, two chests, and two small, rough-hewn tables that held oil lamps waiting to be lit.

“Since you two are the only women here, you’re getting your own space,” the sergeant said, and he didn’t sound too happy about it. “Women are born troublemakers, especially shifter females.” He sent me a disapproving look. “I don’t care who sleeps in which bed, but I expect you to keep it clean. There are two working outhouses in the area, one behind the barrack three houses down from you, and there’s a well not too far from here where you can fetch water for sponge baths.” He pointed to a rusty bucket.

“Yes sir,” Annia and I both said. I fought against the urge to wrinkle my nose at the idea of going without a bath or shower for months on end – the sergeant would gleefully pounce on any opportunity to point out that a female like me was too pampered to be a soldier.

“You won’t be getting uniforms until the Captain can verify your story, but later on today you can stop by the supply station and pick up basic toiletries. I’ll make sure some are set aside for you.”

“Thank you, sergeant,” we both said.

“Alright, now set your things down here and come with me. It’s time to put you two to work.”

“Where exactly are you assigning us?” I asked. I hoped it was something that allowed me to move around the camp, so that we could discover the location of the prisoners.

“The kitchens, of course.” The sergeant arched a brow, and for the first time his lips quirked into a smile. “It’s about time someone brought a woman’s touch to the slop they serve as food around here.”





11





“This is unbelievable,” I growled under my breath as I scrubbed furiously at a cast iron pan using coarse salt and steel wool. The sleeves of my shirt were rolled up to my elbows, and I was wearing a colorful rag wrapped around my head to keep my hair away from the food. “You’d think they’d at least give us a little bit of a learning curve before dumping us in here on our own.”

“Yeah, right.” Annia snorted from behind me as she wiped down the stove. “I swear the cook practically skipped out of the doors as soon as we arrived. Guy was f*cking whistling a happy tune. Even if the sergeant had told him to stay, I bet he would have hightailed it as soon as we were left alone.”

We talked quietly to make sure no one overheard us, though that was unlikely due to all the background noise. The mess hall was nearly full to bursting, with over a hundred men sitting ass to elbow at the picnic-style tables and stuffing food into their mouths from rough-hewn wooden trenchers. A third or so were shifters, and they mostly sat with each other. We’d had less than two hours to take the disgusting slop the former cook was putting together and turn it into a passable meal. I thanked Magorah that Annia knew her way around a kitchen, because my own cooking skills were rudimentary at best. We’d turned out some decent sandwiches using canned meat, fried potatoes, and green beans, and you would have thought we’d served them a gourmet meal from the way the men’s eyes lit up as they came up to the serving counter with their trenchers. Quite a few of them had complimented us on more than our culinary skills, their eyes lingering on the swell of our breasts beneath our shirts. It had taken me every ounce of willpower I had to smile flirtatiously at them, when what I really wanted to do was punch them in their leering faces. But if we wanted to find out where the prisoners were hidden, we had to start making some friends, and kicking these soldiers’ asses wasn’t going to help.

“I just wish we weren’t stuck in here the entire day,” I grumbled. “How are we supposed to talk to any of the men if they’re out there and we’re in here?” I spared a glance toward the mess hall, which I could see clearly through the large, rectangular opening in the wall. Fenris was sitting at one of the tables with several shifters, looking withdrawn and uncomfortable as he ate. The other shifters were ignoring him, and he made no effort to try and insert himself into the conversation. “Fenris certainly doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere.”