Blood Sport

Chapter Twelve

She didn't want to think about it. Had no reason to. The General had bought her back here and that was all that mattered.

What was he playing at offering her his blood anyway?

Was he mad?

Or was he after something?

It had to be the latter. With Killian, it would always be that latter.

She pushed him from her mind. With the dying woman in front of her, forgetting about him for a time was easy.

She hated the silence that blanketed the cells. Not the whole cellblock, just their area specifically. Jenna hadn't spoken a word in hours. Equally, Reagan didn't know what to say.

"How you feeling?" She asked eventually, forcing the words out. Everything felt redundant. Like there was nothing left to say. Nothing that could make this any easier.

"I feel like I'm going to die today."

She needed to lighten this situation. She didn't do these sappy goodbyes.

"Try to hurt them whilst you're at it, yeah? Give them hell."

"I think I'm just going to take it," Jenna said. There was no fight left in her. Not anymore. "Get it over with fast. It's not like—it's not as if I've ever had much worth living for."

Reagan avoided looking at her.

Jenna's situation was too much of a reminder.

She'd led the same life as her Mother. At least Jenna would be going down with her dignity.

"You know," Jenna mused. "I think this might be the first time the guards will be coming this way to get me instead of you. I wish they were coming to take you to him. It feels like I should've done something more. Like I've never really lived at all."

She hadn't. Reagan knew that for a fact.

Jenna had seen nothing and experienced nothing beyond what was her normal. She'd been a pawn in someone else's game her entire life. Something to be tossed around on the side lines.

"It'll be weird when you're not here," Reagan offered. "Who will I have to talk to?"

"They'll replace me. And I doubt you'll be down here for long anyway."

"Ha, they'll kill me faster to get it over with."

"That's not what I meant."

Reagan's stomach dropped, but she never got the chance to question Jenna any further. The steady marching of the guards' feet was already upon them. Jenna was right. For the first time since Reagan had been put down here, it wasn't her they were coming for.

An even weirder feeing hit her as the guards snatched Jenna from her cell.

It wasn't a feeling she was used to—but she knew it so well.

Sadness.

Undeniable sadness—because Jenna had become her friend. A friend she had so few of. For a time, in a strange way, it felt like she'd had a little piece of her Mother back.

And now she was gone again.

They dragged Jenna down the halls, never to be seen again.

Reagan stared forwards for a long time. Longer than she meant to, contemplating what to do with this feeling. What to convert it to.

The guards were back soon. They walked slower this time, more resigned in their steps now they'd come for her. The dangerous prisoner. The one none of them knew anything about.