Of Blood and Honey (Fey and the Fallen) Read Online Free Page A

the man moved closer. Something brushed the back of Liam’s neck when the blond guard went past. Instinctively, Liam jerked away.
    “What’s with you?” Tom asked.
    “Sod off,” Liam whispered.
    “I heard that,” Hugh said.
    After dinner Liam decided to take a walk. The others were off practicing football to keep warm and while a good runner, Liam was shite at football. The older ones were off playing cards or writing letters in the study hut. Each cage had four or five huts which included living quarters, the recreation hut with the washroom, the study hut and the drying hut where wet clothes were hung when the weather was bad. In Liam’s short experience, the weather was almost always bad. He’d heard the drying hut was where you went when you wanted to be alone. However, he was new and wasn’t sure it’d be safe. So, he pulled up his collar against the north wind and buttoned his coat. He considered what Mary Kate might be doing. It would be Christmas soon, and if they didn’t release him, it’d be his first away from home. Christmas was his favorite holiday. His mother did the baking every
    year, filling up the flat with the smells of fresh bread, biscuits and tea.
    His stomach rumbled.
    It was no good torturing himself. He changed the image in his head from the kitchen to the sitting room. His Aunt Sheila would make a huge paper chain out of yellow construction paper with the help of the little ones. The tree would go up next week, and if he were home, the thing would annoy him something fierce—not the smell. He loved the smell of fresh Christmas tree, but no matter how small it was it would take up half the room. Now, he wished for nothing more than to be tripping over it in the dark on his way to bed. His chest ached, and he blinked back tears, taking a deep breath of cold air.
    Furtive whispers to his left stopped him. Too late, he saw it was Tom and one of the other young internees. A glimpse of ragged magazine pages and a photo of a bare breast told Liam that Tom was negotiating the use of his most recent and most valuable commodity—three pages ripped from a copy of Mayfair . Liam had heard that Tom and Hugh were charging for five minutes alone behind the shed with the photo of your choice.
    Blushing, Liam brought his shoulders up and continued walking in the hope that he’d not been noticed.
    “Liam!”
    Dread knotted Liam’s stomach in an instant.
    “I’m feeling generous today. You can have a go at Eleanor for that cigarette you been holding.”
    Liam shook his head no. The heat in his face spread out to his ears. He turned his face away.
    “What’s the matter, mammy’s boy? Never seen a snap of a naked bird before?” Tom asked, retrieving the wrinkled pages. His latest customer vanished down the path in hurry.
    “I have,” Liam said. “My stepfather has whole magazines. Not only a page.” At age twelve he’d stumbled upon a copy of Mayfair hidden in a cupboard and was found out before he’d had a chance to peek inside the cover. Patrick had nearly beaten the life out of him and had threatened worse if Liam said a word to his mother. The next day the magazine was gone, and he’d never had another chance since.
    Tom said, “All right, then. One cig.”
    “Smoked it,” Liam said and shrugged in an attempt to look worldly. It was a lie, of course. He’d given it away to another prisoner who’d asked for it.
    “Oh. That’s a pity, that is,” Tom said. A rueful smile flitted across his face. “You know, maybe I feel a bit bad about you going hungry tonight. Tell you what, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll let you have a go at Eleanor for nothing.”
    Liam blinked.
    Holding the photo out, Tom said, “Well? Go on. What are you waiting for? You queer or something?”
    While Liam didn’t trust Tom, he didn’t want to miss the opportunity either. He moved closer and reached for the torn magazine page. The blonde woman in the photograph rested against a mound of white fur pillows