Chapter 7
7
Recovered Journal of Dr. Georgia Clark
March 28, Year 1, Emergence Era
Candice. It’s a waking nightmare. Over and over again, I see her. I can’t stop it replaying in my head. There’s no way out of this, no way to stop what Juno has set into motion. And now my time is ticking away. Gregor’s ultimatum is final. There’s no way out. Not for me. Not for anyone around me. I’m alone in this knowledge.
Alone.
“ T here are three bloodlines. Dragonis, Corvidion, and Tantun. Remember them. Repeat them back to me . ” A voice, a warm hand on my shoulder. He tells me the bloodlines and demands I remember them. The splitting pain in my head tells me to forget, but I repeat them as best I can. “Dragonis, Corvidion, and Tantun.”
“Doctor.” A hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.
I roar to consciousness, my body seizing as I look around wildly. Whitbine. Where is he?
“He’s gone.” Warm brown eyes meet mine. Melody. “You were talking in your sleep.”
I surge away from her, pressing my back to the headboard. I’m in my room again.
She stands and backs away, her chin down. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
My panic, all-consuming for a single moment, begins to ebb. Still, my heart thunders in my chest, and I think I might be having a panic attack. I press my sweaty palms to my cheeks and try to regulate my breathing. My stomach cramps, acid creeping up my throat.
I fix my gaze on the wall ahead, telling myself I’m okay.
I’m okay .
I’m okay .
I’m okay .
I’m back in my room. Whitbine is gone. I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive .
I inspect my wrists. No new bites. Only the scars from the old ones. He didn’t take my blood, just another sliver of my sanity. That’s all. Just that tiny concession.
In and out. Slowly. I catch my breath and orient myself. The same walls, same stone windows. I’m not safe, but at least I’m somewhere familiar.
“How did I get back here?”
“Lord Dragonis brought you after the … interview.”
A dry laugh catches in my throat. An ‘interview’. As if I was applying for a professor spot and Whitbine was the department chair. Nothing more than questions about my interests and what I bring to the faculty. How I see my future, what research projects are on the horizon.
“I’ve brought something to help with your stomach.” She gestures to a golden tray at the foot of my bed. “Toast and the like.”
The old me would thank her. The one who was raised in Texas with a graceful mom and a gentle dad. One with a sister who made sure I minded my manners. A lifetime ago. This me is suspicious. My naivety died in that cell, or perhaps before. As with so many things, I don’t remember exactly when it happened.
“You’re Blood Dragonis?” I ask.
“Yes.” Her eyes meet mine again.
“Have you ever compelled me?” I glance at the food tray. It isn’t the first time I’ve wondered if they’ve been spiking my food with their blood, but it’s the first time I’ve been bold enough—or foolish enough—to ask.
“No.” She doesn’t flinch.
I feel like she isn’t lying to me, but it’s not as if I can trust her. Not her, not anyone in this damned castle. She’s the enemy. Her people are hellbent on wiping mine out. I’ve spent plenty of effort on trying not to think about what’s going on outside these stone walls. Is the world out there burning at Gregor’s behest? My stomach lurches, and I push the thought away.
Melody stands silent as I go through every stage of grief then circle back to self-loathing and fear. She’s never been in my room like this, at least not when I’ve been awake.
“Why are you here?”
“I was instructed to make sure you eat something.” She gestures to the tray.
“By Valen?”
She nods.
I suppose he doesn’t want his pet going on a hunger strike, or worse, dying before he gets his precious information. “If I eat, you’ll leave?”
Another nod.
I drag the tray toward me and open the lid. True to her word, there’s toast, plain white rice, and an ice water.
“Is there anything else that would help you recover?” she asks.
Yes. An IV with fluids. Maybe some Pepto. But I’ll be damned if I ask her for anything. Silently, I take a bite of toast, then wash it down with water.
“There.” I glance at her. “I ate.”
With a nod, she turns and leaves, closing the door silently behind her.
As soon as she’s gone, I rub the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. The itch of unshed tears, the unbridled rage at being turned into a puppet yet again. I’m broken in myriad ways, but I still feel. Every emotion, every hurt—I feel all of them like they’re fresh. It’s the worst part of all of this. My emotions. All of them raw. All of them impotent.
It’s been two days since the interrogation. I’m finally on my feet again, my mind recovered enough that I can creep down the hallways without jumping at my own shadow. I’ve run across Gorsky a few times, though I’ve immediately turned and gone the other way the moment I saw him. Maybe my isolation isn’t healthy, but spending another second with him isn’t either.
I’ve ventured down another level, labeling each in my mind. The top where my room is, I call “Bedroom Alley,” the next lower one is “Piano Bay,” and lower than that is where I’m exploring now. This is where my investigation will end, because the thought of going down to the room with the green flame fireplace is enough to turn my stomach.
I even found a ballroom on the piano level, the black walls high and wide. Hundreds of people could fit in there with room to spare. The silence gave it an eerie feeling as I hurried to the next set of adjoining doors.
It doesn’t matter where I go, I feel like I’m being watched. I don’t know if it’s paranoia or wisdom that gives me that sensation. Either way, I’m careful to always peek around corners and listen at doors. For being an enormous underground manor, the inhabitants are sparse. I haven’t seen anyone save for Melody and Gorsky. Valen hasn’t accosted me since the interrogation. I’d prefer he kept it that way.
The hallway on this level is a bit wider than those above, the ceilings rougher, the stone even darker. All the pomp of the upper levels seems to have missed this floor, and I hesitate as I start down the center corridor. The air is damp here, an icy chill whispering across my skin. I pull my makeshift shawl—a blanket from my closet—tighter around my shoulders and venture deeper.
My breath fogs out, the silence eating whatever sounds I make as I pad along in the gloom. Despite being closer overhead, the lights are dim, and some are out entirely, leaving patches of pitch between one faintly glowing oasis and another. There are no doors here, only stone.
I continue, my sense of being somewhere I shouldn’t increasing with each step. Even so, I force myself forward, searching for something. For anything . For a way out.
The hallway begins to narrow and makes several turns, a labyrinth that has me worried about losing my way. But there aren’t options, only a steady advance toward whatever lies at the end, to the minotaur waiting in the depths.
Goose bumps rise along the back of my neck, and I shiver as I come to another sharp corner. I peek around it, but the way ahead is dark. Far darker than anything in the tunnel at my back. It’s as if the light has been swallowed, siphoned down into some black hole.
I peer into the opaque shadow, my eyes straining to pick out the barest hint of detail. There’s nothing. It could be a blank wall or a pit deeper than the sea. I have no idea.
“Shit,” I murmur under my breath.
The walls take the sound and bounce it around until it, too, disappears into the black. It doesn’t come back to me after that.
“This isn’t a place for you.”
I yelp and spin, then lose my footing.
Valen grips my upper arms and holds me upright, the tips of his fangs glinting in the low light. “You don’t know what’s hiding in the dark.”
I swallow hard as he puts me back on my feet. But he doesn’t let me go.
“I was just?—”
“Snooping. I’m aware.” He stares down at me, the shine in his eyes particularly predatory. “You’ve scoured a few floors so far. Find an escape yet, little rabbit?” He smirks.
“Let go.” I step back from him, but not too far. Not enough that I’m in the pool of darkness. “No one said I couldn’t come down here.”
“No one told you not to jump off the balcony either. The danger there is obvious, just as it is here.”
“Shouldn’t you be out doing mass murder?” I flinch at my own words.
“I’ve just returned from a nice trip to Philadelphia. The humans there raised a decent resistance.” He shrugs. “I wiped them out all the same.”
I glare up at him. The hate must show on my face because his smirk only deepens. “Does your heart bleed for them? For all the people your sister betrayed?”
“Don’t talk about my sister.” I fist my hands, rage blotting out my reason, my logic, my fear.
“Don’t talk about the one who started all this?”
“You started this!” I fire back. “You came to her, remember? You offered her a deal. You—” The headache slices through my skull again, piercing me like an arrow. “Fuck!” I press my palm to my temple.
“Don’t overwork your pitiful human mind.” He takes my elbow and pulls me along beside him, leading me from the dark corridor. “It wouldn’t do for you to fall apart before I’m done with you.” He turns quickly, his hands at my shoulders, pinning me to the wall. “Speaking of?—”
“Hey!” I shove at his hard chest.
He strikes at my throat so quickly that I don’t know it’s happening until I feel the sting, the crush of his lips against my skin.
“Stop!” I’m paralyzed, my skin heating as he pulls from me. I grip his shirt, fisting it as I shove against him. I may as well try to push the ocean away from the shore. He doesn’t let go, doesn’t give me even a hint of softness, of kindness. He only takes. I whimper, a stolen sound that passes my lips. The burning rage that flares inside me turns into something languid, something that swirls lower in my belly and turns me liquid. Shame mixes with my fear, and I tremble at the desire he’s forced into my veins.
He pulls away, then swipes his thumb across his fangs and onto my wounds.
“Don’t.” The only word I can gasp out.
“Don’t what?” he taunts, eyes shining. “Don’t take what I want from you?” He inhales, his lips twitching into a cold half smile. “You betray yourself. Your cunt is slick for me right now.”
“Stop.” I shudder, the truth of his words cutting to my core. “You did this. Y-your bite is?—”
“Poison.” He finishes for me. “One you mortals succumb to every time. One bite, and your body opens for me, your thighs spreading, your cunt weeping.” He inhales again, his eyelids fluttering. “I can taste you, little rabbit.” Leaning closer, he’s all around me. Caging me. Keeping me in his predatory gaze. “I could take it all, and you’d let me. I could fuck you raw, right here, right now, and you’d come harder than you ever have in your pathetic human life. Is that what you want?” He looms over me, his words burning me in licks of flame. “Do you want me to make you scream?” He glances at my lips, then his gaze slides lower along my body.
“Leave me alone.” My voice is weak and trembling. I can’t catch my breath.
His eyes go cold, his sneer returning. “And if I don’t?” His gaze flickers to my mouth again.
I have no answer, no way of stopping him. And that part of me his bite has charmed—that part of me wants him to take me, to shove me against the wall and plunge inside me. It wants his cock, his fangs. Tears spring into my eyes at my own betrayal.
“Going to cry for me?” He grins.
“I hate you.” I force the words out between my clenched teeth.
“Liar,” he coos, his voice sultry. “Never forget what you are. You are available to me at all times. Your blood is mine. Your body is mine.” He backs away from me, the sneer in his voice like spikes in my skin. “Now return to your room like a good little rabbit.” The compulsion takes hold, forcing my limbs into motion.
I want to fight, to scratch his eyes out, to do something, anything to take back even the smallest scrap of what he just stole from me. Instead, my body carries me away from him, his presence receding behind me as I mindlessly climb the stairs. My tears fall in silence, my heart numb, my soul in ribbons.