Chapter 16 #2
Like all creatures of the night, Elodie had been stunning upon her capture.
Impossibly so. Her pale skin, as white as untouched snow, had glowed in the purple light of the orbs that illuminated the castle ruins.
Her face had been exquisite and unblemished, from her perfectly formed lips to her straight nose and symmetrical eyes.
She’d been a thing of beauty, one that poets would’ve written about.
Or she had been, until her capture. When the soldiers had clamped prohiberis manacles on her arms and legs, she’d screeched. She’d thrashed about, screaming and cursing, until a silver muzzle had been secured over her mouth, preventing her from biting anyone who got too close.
Now, it was evident that this place had taken its toll on Elodie. The dungeon had a way of sucking the life out of its inhabitants, and vampires were not immune to its curse.
Nikhail understood what Priya had meant earlier.
The woman huddled in the corner of the room was so far removed from the vampire he’d encountered in Castle Sanguis that it was difficult to believe they were the same person.
Prohiberis manacles were clamped around Elodie’s wrists and ankles, the chains leading to the center of the room.
She had enough leeway to move to the corner of the room, but no further.
The silver muzzle remained, decorated in flecks of dried blood.
As if she’d tried to claw it off, despite the pain silver brought her kind.
Cuts and scrapes littered the vampire’s body, evidence of prior interrogations. The prohiberis prevented her healing.
More haunting than the evidence of the torture she’d already endured was the feral look in the vampire’s pitch-black gaze. Wild and dangerous, they threatened annihilation if someone dared approach.
If this were a normal prisoner, Nikhail would’ve felt remorseful about the treatment they were receiving. But Elodie Valois was not a normal prisoner.
Her prints had been run when she’d first been taken into custody. That was a regular, run-of-the-mill activity. However, the story her prints told was far from normal. It was dark and sinister, even for an immortal creature of the night.
At nearly five hundred years old, Elodie was not a young vampire. Her prints had been connected to a string of twenty-four gruesome murders that stretched back centuries. Until her arrest, the crimes had remained unsolved.
Between the murders and her involvement with the Black Night, she’d been thrown in here. Since then, they’d uncovered even more about her true nature.
Elodie Valois was consumed with bitterness and contempt. Not just for the Representatives, although she certainly harbored no goodwill towards them. She despised humans and scorned all other non-vampiric species who called this land their own.
“Has she had any blood?” Nikhail asked.
Priya shook her head. “Not for a while. She was cooperating at first, answering questions about the documents found in the ruined castle, but she clammed up a few weeks ago and hasn’t said anything since.”
Around the time of the bombing at the Chancellor’s residence.
Nikhail made note of that, storing the information away in his mind.
“So, she’s starving.” It wasn’t a question.
Priya inclined her head.
Rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip, Nikhail assessed the situation. Withholding blood from vampires was a common tactic employed by guards in The Pit. It forced the vampire’s true nature to the forefront faster than any other form of torture.
Usually, creatures of the night didn’t last long without blood. Especially if they were also being interrogated. A few days, at most. The strongest, oldest vampires could go a couple of weeks without blood.
Elodie looked at the mirror, and for a moment, Nikhail could swear she saw them through the mirror. A low, vicious snarl slipped from her lips, and she snapped her wrists. The chains banged on the floor.
Lukas, who had been silent, stumbled back. His face turned green around the edges. “Is this normal? She’s more animal than human right now.”
“It’s not out of the norm,” Christof said.
“First time seeing a feral vampire, Corporal?” Priya asked.
Lukas’s gaze was trained on the one-way mirror. “Yes, it is. I just… I didn’t realize…”
Priya placed her hand on his arm, and Lukas glanced over at her. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “It’s a shock to everyone, at first.”
Vampires were regular members of society, like humans, fae, elves, werewolves, witches, dragon shifters, and everyone else who called the Republic of Balance their home. Most, like Brynleigh, were fully functioning members of society.
But strip their kind of blood, and it wasn’t long before it became clear why some people thought the creatures of the night were the most terrifying beings to ever roam these lands.
Perhaps even more than dragon shifters, who were known to be quick to anger and short-tempered, a vampire’s natural state was death and darkness.
But deadly creature or not, Nikhail needed answers. He had to learn what the rebels were planning next, and if that meant dealing with a feral vampire, then he would do it.
Nikhail requested that blood be delivered before removing his weapons. Then, he entered the cell.
The vampire snarled as he walked inside, scrambling to the end of her chains. Lukas had been right when he said she was a wild animal. There were very few traces of life left on Elodie’s face.
But still, Nikhail had to try.
He crouched, remaining just out of reach, and introduced himself. “I’m here to make you an offer,” Nikhail said. “If you help me, I will give you blood.”
Her snarl was her only response.
He wouldn’t let that deter him. Leaning against the cold wall, with the bags of blood by his side, Nikhail settled in for a long wait.
“Go on,” he said to the feral vampire. “Get it all out. I won’t be leaving until we get your help.”
After all, this wasn’t just for Nikhail, but for River.
And he would do anything for her.