Fury Rising (Fury Unbound Book 1) by Yasmine Galenorn Read Free Book Online Page A

shatterproof, so I started working on the window separating us from the driver.
    He glanced in the rearview mirror, scowling, and I realized he was actually driving the car—it wasn’t an automatic. Very few people bothered to learn how to pilot machinery anymore. He casually flipped a switch and his growling voice filtered into the backseat.
    “Put it away, girl. That won’t do you any good. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.” At that point, he flashed me a sick smile as we turned down a dark street on the outskirts of Darktown. Crap. We were headed toward the Junk Yard.
    The Junk Yard.
    A huge, gated enclosure that ran twenty blocks long by twenty blocks wide, the walls were made of reinforced steel. In the distant past, the Junk Yard had been used to corral refugees from the South American Mas-Lian jungle. They had fled from Carpaxia, a corporatocracy determined to grab as much land as they could.
    The refugees were Jagulins, a shape-shifting race with the ability to shift into big cats. As the armies of Carpaxia swept through their country, razing their forests to use for agriculture, the Jagulins fled to any country that would take them. But the Regent of Seattle had made one big mistake. The steel walls didn’t set well with the Jagulins. They were uncomfortable enclosed by concrete and metal, and soon, they had moved on to other places, leaving the compound empty.
    The city sold off their Junk Yard apartments, touting the “gated community” aspect of the area. But what they failed to foresee was the fact that the UnderCult had been looking for a place to hive together for a long time. The Junk Yard began to fill up with thugs, drug lords, dark magicians, and mercenaries, the area taking on a life of its own. By then, the Regent had to decide whether to demolish the fortress or leave it stand. The cost was high either way.
    So the Junk Yard stood. As I grew older, I began to realize that leaving it standing was a way for the city council to keep an eye on the groups they were afraid of.
    The car eased between the barbed-wire gates that were open from sundown to sunup, turning right at the first street. I clutched the multi-tool, opening up the one actual blade it had. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. The driver pulled into a burrow-lane, jumped out of the car, and quickly slammed the door, locking it remotely.
    I struggled, trying to smash the window again, but then a soft hiss echoed through the car as gas began to pour out of the vents. The next thing I knew, the world went black.
     

     
    I woke up to find myself tied to a chair in what appeared to be a dusty basement, lit by a single bulb in the center of the ceiling. My bag was on the ground next to me. My mother was naked on a table, unconscious and restrained. The man was standing over her.
    He wore a shiny apron and gloves over dirty jeans, and looked to be bare-chested. I tried to memorize what he looked like. The scars on his head looked like they had been inflicted from a brand, probably a prison brand. Goggles rested on the top of his head, and in one hand he held a scalpel. The dim light glittered off the blade.
    “What do you want?” I knew better than beg him to let her go. There was no mercy in those glittering and cruel eyes.
    He traced my mother’s bare breasts with his finger, smiling faintly, and bile rose in my throat. I wanted to slap him, to smack him away from her. Without looking up, he said, “I’m going to give your mother a lesson she’ll never forget.” And then he glanced over at me, a twisted grin on his face. “And lucky girl, you get to watch every thing that I do.”
    My mother stirred. He slapped her face, hard.
    “Kaeleen? Kae?” Her voice was thick. He had drugged her, all right. “Where’s my daughter?” Panic filled her voice as she struggled against the restraints.
    “I’m all right. I’m over here.” I wanted her to hear me, to know I was okay.
    “Shut up, bitch.” He pinched her