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  Iron Cage

  Eternal Prison Series - Book 1

  A.C. Wilds

  A.J Fox

  Copyright © 2020 by AC Wilds & AJ Fox

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  A.C. Wilds and A.J. Fox asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A.C. Wilds and A.J. Fox has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  First edition

  Editing: Kala Adams

  Cover Designer: Andrea Fodor of CReya-tive

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  It was a blast to write a prison series! We hoped you love Peyton as much as we do.

  There are so many people to thank for pulling this all together, but here are a few mentions.

  Thank you to all our readers without you all we wouldn’t be able to do what we do.

  Kala, you saved our ass. Thank you for your dedication and understanding. You truly are the best editor.

  To our families, without the light you bring we wouldn’t be able to imagine. Thank you for loving us even when deadlines get in the way.

  For all the women who know how to stand up for what’s right.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  About A.C. Wilds

  Also by A.C. Wilds

  About A.J. Fox

  Also by A.J. Fox

  Chapter One

  Hot water crashes down over me, easing the pain in my muscles. Pointing my face toward the spray I relish in the heat. Every part of me is in pain, my body aching.

  Realizing the water is really not helping that much, I reluctantly turn off the spray and press my head against the shower. I’ve been trying to keep my body in top shape, but sometimes it feels like too much.

  Stepping out of the shower, I put on my robe and pad out into the living area. Last night’s takeout containers are still on the coffee table and there are blankets and pillows all over the sofa. Some nights I am so tired, it's hard to even put food in my mouth, let alone clean up.

  My small New York City apartment isn’t something to brag about, but it’s mine. The cream-colored walls, crystal chandeliers, and prints of famous artwork adorn the space.

  My real possessions are locked in a storage facility, under an assumed name and paid in cash every month. I like to think of it as my dragon hoard.

  In another life I was an Art History major, on my way to managing a gallery, but fate had other plans for me. I now find myself in a whole different world, one that would not make any mother proud. Luckily, my mother isn't in the picture.

  Cleaning up as quickly as I can, I attempt to make the space presentable for my guest who will arrive at any moment. No one ever comes here, so when it was requested for this meeting to take place here, I freaked out a bit.

  "Peyton," Carlo calls, from outside the door, "I'm early." He doesn’t bother knocking, his voice carrying through the entire space.

  "Hold on a minute, boss," I yell, running across the living room to toss the boxes into the kitchen. The blankets and pillows are still all over, I’ll have to use my magic.

  I grab my amulet off the table next to the door and put it around my neck. Using my mind, I filter my powers through the amulet as I lift the pillows and place them on the couch, while I fold one of the blankets. The second blanket gets scooped up as soon as the pillows float down.

  "I’m becoming impatient,” he demands. It isn't good to leave the professor waiting.

  Making sure my robe is secure, I rush over and open up the door. My mentor, Carlo Garcia is a tall, striking man, with salt and pepper hair and hard brown eyes. The crinkles of his age form around his eyes, as my heart softens at the sight of him. He’s the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had.

  I met him during my freshman year at NYU, when I was still naive enough to believe I had to suck up to my college professors to get A's. As it turned out, he was disenchanted with teaching wide-eyed students who thought they were the next Picasso and looking to expand their portfolio into other areas of the art world. In the beginning he recruited me for small jobs, teaching me how to steal the things I'd planned to study for a living.

  Carlo walks into the room, his presence making my apartment seem smaller. He wears a navy pinstripe sports jacket over a blue button-up. His legs are covered in dark jeans, and his wingtips finish out the look. He always believes in dressing like you are important.

  It is one lesson he taught me that really didn't stick. I am a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Fancy clothes attract too much attention and I need to blend in, not stick out.

  "How was it?" He asks as he brushes past me, making his way to my kitchen cabinet. I wince at the sight of the dishes in my sink as he helps himself to a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

  "Fine, although I wasn't keen on crawling around underneath the house," I told him. "There were bugs, Carlo." I shudder at the memory of the spider that crawled over my shoulder. “Why are we doing this stuff? We were to do a couple of big jobs and move on."

  Our original plan was to make as much money as we can in the last year and then leave, never returning to the city. It’s been over a year, and still Carlo is making excuses why we have to stay.

  "Patience my eager protege," he says. "We will move on soon. There's still a lot more for this city to give to us,” he commands. There’s no wavering from the plan. As he’s told me before, he’s the brains and I’m the executioner of his plans.

  "Like what?" I ask, pointing to the bottle and taking it from him. Getting out my own glass, I hop up onto the counter. I pour the amber liquid into the glass and a nice oaky scent hits my nose.

  "Like art, statues, cars," he says. His mind appears to be elsewhere as he swishes his drink around. Carlo is greedy and not one to show his hand before everyone else does.

  "You okay, Carlo?" I ask, not sure I've ever seen him in a daze before. He’s always been nothing but clear and concise with what needs to be done. There has to be a reason he is a little off.

  "Tell me," he says, "the amulet you wear around your neck. Where did you get it?" He takes another sip
from his glass and eyes me. Why would he ask me about my amulet?

  "It was my grandmother's," I say, as an uneasy feeling settles in my chest. Fear courses through me as I think about what it would mean if he ever found out about all it can do.

  "I did a little research on that piece, and I think it might be quite valuable. What I don't understand is why you haven't told me about it." He sounds scorned. Almost like he has a right to my private property.

  I examine him. His eyes are glassy, and there is a slight blush on his cheeks. He's been drinking before he came over. Now that I am really paying attention, I can smell the alcohol. He turns to me and puts his glass down. With one hand on each side of me, he boxes me in. I would never have thought he would ever cross this line and get in my personal space. My fear blossoms and my pulse quickens.

  "I didn't think you'd care about a family heirloom," I explain. "It's only priceless to me because it was hers. There is nothing special about it."

  His eyes narrow and there is a moment when I think he might rip it right off my neck. I am paralyzed with shock. This is so unlike him.

  "I don't think that's the truth. When I met you, you didn't exude so much confidence. Make no mistake, I've always known about your abilities, but in the beginning, you couldn't control them. Now I think I know why you started becoming so good at this. You’ve had a little help.”

  He places one finger underneath the amulet, and his other fingers brush against my skin. Revulsion crawls through me as I try not to make him angrier by pushing him off.

  A thunderbolt strikes me as I play back what he said. He knows about my abilities? How is that possible? I’ve never shown him anything, and I am always careful with what I do when I’m with other people.

  He looks into my eyes and there is hurt and disgust there. I’m not sure how much he's had to drink, but the whole thing makes me very uncomfortable. I do the only thing I can think of; I take a sip of my whiskey and brush him off.

  “Honestly, Carlo, I don’t know what you’re talking about? Powers?” I laugh it off and squeeze my way underneath his arms, jumping off the counter. Nothing good will come from this conversation.

  "You're lying. I thought we had a better relationship than this. No matter. I need you to do a job for me and I'm going to need a little insurance you'll get it done." A grin like a shark negotiating with a fish comes over his face.

  Swallowing, I try to stand up straighter, "When have I ever not done a job for you? Not once have I questioned your authority nor have I ever cheated you," I say the words with what I think is confidence, but they come out like a squeak. It really looks like I have something to hide.

  He reaches over and puts his finger beneath the amulet again and holds it for a second. Squeezing his hand closed around the chain, he gives it a forceful tug. My amulet is free from my neck in seconds, and it feels like my entire world is crashing down around me.

  "No," I yell, starting for him, my arms are outstretched. He holds it just out of reach and backs away. My mind reels at what options I have left, and there aren't any. I can’t try to fight him, I’m not strong enough. Carlo is a black belt in karate. There is no way I can beat him. And there is no one to call for help. Hopelessness takes over as I try to think of my next move.

  "I think you'll pay to get this back," he says. “For all the times when we could have made bigger and better scores. You’re nothing without me Peyton, you best remember that.”

  At that moment, the man that I know as a mentor and a father is ripped from me. He no longer exists. The person who stands before me is the greedy shell. There’s no way I can allow him to have my amulet. I’ll take it back the first chance I get, and then it’s goodbye NYC and Carlo.

  "Whatever I need to do to get it back, tell me." The words come out through gritted teeth. My anger pulses around me. I can’t lose control because my powers are unpredictable and if I don’t have control, I’ll be putting more than just Carlo’s life at risk.

  “Ten million, that’s my price.” His eyes turn dark, and they narrow in on me. “We could have been on a private island by now. Out of this fucking city and living the life, but your selfishness has us in the same shit we were in a year ago."

  My heart pounds in panic, my hands are balled at my sides. I don’t know what he thinks I can do, but he has the wrong idea. I’m not Superwoman or Batgirl. I'm a normal human with some fucked up gifts that I never asked for.

  "You have to understand," I point at the amulet, "it’s a secret no one knows. Can you imagine what people would do to me? I don't know anyone else who has powers or an amulet to help control them. I could be the only one, and I don’t want to be a government experiment. "This is shitty of you, Carlo. I've always been good to you. You were like a father to me."

  I feel my chest tighten as the realization he’s turning against me hits. There has always been a feeling that I shouldn’t share my abilities with him, and I have just realized why. Carlo is all about Carlo. I’m nothing more than a means to an end. My grandmother always told me people wouldn't understand, and she was right.

  "I have always been taught to keep it to myself," I say, trying to get away from him and out of the conversation. We are getting nowhere talking in circles.

  "I don't care," he says, moving closer to me, his nose almost touching mine. His breath is hot on my face, which causes me to cringe. Something flashes behind his eyes and I can’t breathe for a moment. His gaze penetrates me with such hatred. As quickly as he gets into my face he moves away from me, still clutching it in his hand.

  He blocks my way out of the kitchen and I don't know if this is going to end in a fight. Carlo taught me how to defend myself, but I’m not a fighter. I relied on my powers, which in hindsight seems like a mistake.

  "Carlo, I need my amulet to get you the money. There's no way I can pull a major job without it." Maybe if I reason with him, tell him the truth, he’d understand the consequences of me going without my necklace.

  "No, you'll find another way," he says. I watch in horror as he tucks my amulet in his sports coat and moves towards the door.

  "Carlo," I say, not loving the fear in my voice. "Please, don't do this."

  "You should have been honest with me," he says, and closes the door.

  I sink to my knees, feeling completely lost. What the hell am I going to do without my amulet? Tears fall from my eyes as the weight of what happened crashes around me. After I sob for a while, I get up and drink more whiskey. I’m going to get my shit together and find the money.

  "Ten million dollars.” The words spoken out loud make me want to vomit. I can’t believe this was happening.

  Chapter Two

  Walking into my treasure trove, I pull my laptop out of my bag. I need to liquidate and get Carlo the money as fast as possible.

  This storage unit is where I keep all the valuables that one would not want to be caught with in their home. I fancy myself a selective hoarder who keeps things that are useful, such as diamonds and gold. Nothing too excessive. I climb the stairs and go down to my unit, throwing the door open. It's like walking into my own little personal cave of wonder.

  "Okay," I whisper, as I pull down the first box and put it on the floor. It is full of some artwork we'd stolen when we went to LA. It consists of a lot of abstract art, things only the rich and stupid would buy. Conversation pieces. One is of fruit littered with maggots. Another is a mermaid lying on a dirty sidewalk surrounded by litter. She is eating a cheeseburger with goldfish hanging out of the bun.

  These are not something I would ever purchase or hang, but Carlo had assured me they were worth a lot. A few searches online in a couple of dark websites showed me the box of paintings was worth about fifteen thousand. Not nearly what I thought they would be worth, but if I can get them for that price, it will be a start.

  The next box I sort through has Crown Royal bags full of coins. I pour them all out, creating a pile in front of me. I spread them out on the floor of the storage unit and started picki
ng out the ones I know are worth money.

  By the time I'd pull the one’s worth anything, the coins add up to only eight thousand dollars. I lay on my back, the cold from the floor seeps into my t-shirt, and I try not to panic. There isn't going to be enough in the storage unit to pay for my amulet.

  A sense of desperation and sadness comes over me. An impossible task for a girl who depended on a friend to help her live. Shaking off the pity party, I get up and move on to the jewels.

  The box full of rubies, sapphires, and some diamonds should bring in a lot more than the paintings and coins combined, but they’re precious to me. I have always been one for shiny things. My heart sinks at the thought of losing them.

  I need an outside opinion. Pulling out my cell phone, I punch in the number for Wires. Up until last month, he was my tech guy. He was always in my ear telling me what door to go through and where the guards were. It made me feel like a total professional.

  He picks up on the second ring, "Go for Wires."

  "You're such a dork," I say.

  "Ah, if it isn't my favorite thief," he says with a chuckle.

  "I know you're not working with us any more Wires, but I could use your advice."

  "As long as it's not about technical stuff, Shadow, I'm your guy."

  Shadow... Wires is the only one who uses my secret cool spy name. "That's literally your job," I say.

  "Not anymore, what can I do for you?"

  "Carlo is blackmailing me, well sort of. He has something of mine. I have to do a job to get him some money. I have nothing that I can sell that will pay him."