Chapter 3
3
“ W here did this one come from?” A voice echoes along a tunnel, miles away from me, only reaching me in hollow, booming sound. It’s cold here. I can’t move.
I can’t open my eyes. There’s something covering my face. It’s claustrophobic, panic rising in my chest, my throat. Where am I?
“Swept up with the rest near Capitol Hill. Trying to escape. Barely avoided the Specter’s blade, but we managed to scoop up a few for questioning.” A woman’s voice, soft and sweet. “It’s the president’s sister. One of the others identified her. She’s the one who was supposed to find the cure.”
“Well, well. High Lord Dragonis will be pleased we caught this little hare.”
“Nothing can please him now.” The woman’s voice goes cold.
“Even so. Ah, she’s awake. Perfect.” The man sighs. “Let’s see what we have.”
The face covering is ripped off, and light stings my eyes. I close them against the glare.
“My name is Whitbine.”
I can sense the man leaning over me, and I open my eyes just a little to see the shadow of his face.
“You and I are going to spend some time together, Georgia. I can admit, it won’t be pleasant. At least not for you.”
My vision clears somewhat. He’s young, his green eyes and pale skin setting off a warning in me. Vampire. The woman behind him moves into my field of vision. I strain against the cuff or chain at my throat to look at her. Long white hair, beautiful face.
“Do whatever it takes.” She stares at me. “When you find out what happened to Theo, come to me with the information. No one else. I want to be the one to tell High Lord Dragonis.”
“You think that will garner favor?” The man stands straight, one of his pale eyebrows rising.
“As I said, there is no favor to be had from the high lord. He’s …” She trails off, as if thinking better of assigning a descriptor. “We must find who’s responsible.” Her voice drops lower. “If it was someone from within our own ranks, we can’t let recriminations fall on us. Understand?”
“Yes, yes. Let me work.” Whitbine picks something up and presses it between my lips.
I try to spit it out, but my mouth fills with liquid. Sputtering and coughing, I expel some of it. But not all.
“Better.” He presses his cold palm to my forehead and smooths my hair down. “Now, you will tell me the truth. If you refuse, I will hurt you.” He holds up a knife. “It’s simple.”
I strain against the table, trying to free myself from the bindings at my wrists and ankles. I get nowhere. I’m tied tightly. Shackled in this cold room.
“Let’s begin.” He yanks up my shirt, exposing my stomach, then presses the knife to my skin. “Did you witness Theo Dragonis’s death?”
“I don’t know.” The answer pops free, compelled from me like pumping water from a well.
He frowns, the white-gray skin around his eyes crinkling ever so slightly before reverting to perfection. “That’s an odd answer. Let’s see if we can’t get a better one.” His tone is almost friendly now.
I scream as he presses the knife into my stomach. Skin and tissue, the intestines beneath—he cuts through them with no effort.
He smiles, his fangs lengthening at the scent of my blood. “Don’t worry, Georgia. I’m a professional. I know how to bleed you without hitting any major organs. I’m a doctor just like you.” He pushes the blade deeper. “You see?” he calls over my wail. “I have all the training. But I need you to be forthcoming. It’s the only way this little office visit can be productive. You will tell me what I want to know.” The compulsion hits me harder, twisting through my brain like a tangle of snakes.
I fight against my restraints, the white-hot pain of the knife searing into my consciousness.
“Did you witness Theo Dragonis’s death?” he asks again.
“I don’t know.”
He twists the knife, smiling as he does it, smiling even bigger as I scream and scream and scream.