Chapter 17
The sound of dripping water awakens me, as I try to remember where I am.
The memory of being punched rushes back to me.
I lift a hand to my swollen eye and run a finger across the sensitive skin, trying not to wince at the sting of the movement.
Why the hell am I still alive? My body slumps against the cold stone wall, but as I try to sit up, a sharp tug on my wrists forces me back down.
Using my one good eye, I look around the small stone room, taking in a set of metal bars that separate me from my freedom.
Not metal, something far stronger. Shadow.
I’m in a fucking cell. Panic grips my chest as I fight against the chains encasing my wrists and ankles, but it’s the same black wispy tendrils as the bars, and they are keeping me firmly in place.
Despite my shackles being made of shadow, I still feel the rusty sensation of metal biting into my skin every time I move.
That doesn’t deter me. I pull against the restraints relentlessly, causing trickles of blood to trail down my arms, only stopping when exhaustion forces me to still.
“Fuck!”
My ragged breaths fill the dark space as my head rests against the uneven wall.
Angry tears prick the edge of my eyes. I need to get out of here if I want to find Willow.
Deep inside, I know that it’s wishful thinking, but I can’t give up.
Not now. I have to bring Willow home; otherwise, all of this was for nothing.
I peer through the bars of my cell into the darkness, willing my eye to focus. All I can make out is the dark silhouette of an empty cell and a puddle of water that grows with every drip that falls into it.
“Hello,” I call out, but am met with nothing but the echo of my own voice.
I’m completely alone down here, which may or may not be a good thing.
I push to my feet, almost stumbling as I do.
I rest my hand against the rough surface of the wall to steady myself, but cry out when a jagged piece of stone pierces my palm.
“Shit,” I hiss, pulling back my hand to examine it. The cut is small, thankfully. I blow out a breath, trying to regain some composure, but my stomach only grumbles in response. How long have I been down here?
I do not know, but we need to find a way out, Athriel says.
I don’t understand why they didn’t just kill me. Surely an assassination attempt on their precious prince deserves death.
It is a curious thing, but it tells me that you have something they want, and if I am correct, then you must stall for as long as you can while we search for a way out.
The sound of footsteps halts my response as I sink deeper into the shadows of my cell.
I’m not sure who is coming, but I refuse to wait around like prey.
I straighten my back as much as I can, my eyes fighting the darkness to see who arrives.
Perhaps this is it. Maybe these are my final moments, or maybe Athriel is right, and I have something they want.
A short, stocky male with black eyes comes into focus, and my muscles tense.
He’s a noble vampire, and if he’s down here, it can’t be for anything good.
Though he isn’t wearing the royal guard’s uniform, so perhaps there’s a way I can get my blood into him.
The thought dies as soon as I see the female who comes to stand beside him.
The bitch that punched me. She watches me like a predator, her black eyes scanning my feeble attempt to stand upright.
Thank the lost gods I ate with the prince, or I might have died already.
“Who is your leader?” Her tone is clipped.
There’s no denying that she’s been trained to be nothing more than a warrior.
A killing machine. I can see the desire to rip me to shreds in her eyes, the clenching of her fists that keep her from attacking me, but the question is, why?
I think about what Athriel said, and I lean into the wall casually, trying not to cry out at the sharp parts that dig into my side.
If I have something they want, then I’m going to find out exactly what it is.
“That was quick. You already burned the prince’s body?” I let a smile curve my face, and her eyes narrow into slits. “You didn’t want a little time to mourn before we did this?”
You better be right about this, I warn Athriel.
If I were wrong, you would be dead by now. Look at her, she thinks you have something that she wants, it’s the only thing keeping her from killing you where you stand.
Good.
“Where are the others?”
I tilt my head and take her in. Average height, slim build, she looks like she trains every day, and yet she makes no move to come near me.
I shrug nonchalantly, and her eyes darken. “Maybe bring me some more of that delicious meat, and I might start talking.”
“Or perhaps I will just rip out your tongue instead,” she spits.
“You could, but then you wouldn’t be able to get the information you need.”
She turns to the stocky male.
“Remove the bars.” Her voice is a command that sends a chill down my spine, but I remain still, head held high, fists clenched to hold back the trembling.
He shakes his head nervously. “Eamon said that we weren’t supposed to open it.”
“Well, Eamon isn’t here, so like I said, open it.”
“Please, I’m not trying to disrespect you, but he is the General of the Roya—”
His words are cut off as she grabs him by his collar, bringing their faces only inches apart.
“Last time I checked, you were a member of House Creed, and I just gave you a direct order as your superior.”
Creed. Of course. House of Shadow Steel—or, as we called them back at the bloodhouse, the Shadowsmiths.
They design and wield every weapon carried by a guard or soldier.
Their shadows are said to be unbreakable once formed.
Besides their heightened senses and brute strength, it was said to be one of the main reasons they won the war.
She carries all the arrogance of a house with that much power.
The timid male holds out a shaky hand toward the bars, and the black tendrils fall away, sinking beneath his palm like they were never even there.
She pushes him away and then turns her anger on me.
She stalks toward me, and I prepare myself for an attack, but a sharp gust of wind fills the space, and a tall male with black hair stands in front of her blocking her path to me.
“Get the hell out of my way, Ajax,” she sneers.
She tries to sidestep him, but he moves to block her. She throws a punch at him, but he easily dodges it and, to my surprise, laughs.
“I told Eamon not to send you down here alone. You’re far too bloodthirsty. And I knew you couldn’t resist trying to kill her when you brought him down here with you.” He nods in the direction of the wide-eyed vamp.
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Screw you,” she says.
He laughs again.
“Go blow off some steam in the training room, little sis, and I’ll deal with our guest here.”
“I’m older than you,” she says.
“But smaller, so you know.”
They remain in a standoff for a few more seconds before she finally blows out a breath and relents. I send a smile her way. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m playing a role here, and clearly they aren’t planning to kill me just yet, so I’m not about to bend to a vampire if I don’t have to.
“Maybe bring some of that smoky meat on your next visit,” I tell her.
Her eyes pin me in a death glare.
“Kaia,” Ajax warns, and she finally walks off. He waits until a door slams in the distance and then turns to face me. To my surprise, amusement lights his face.
“You sure have a death wish, don’t you?”
I take the opportunity to assess him. He’s taller than me by a few inches, and though he’s not as muscular as the other male, who is clearly a part of the guard, he is well-toned and looks like he trains often. I could maybe take him after feeding him my blood.
“You’re going to kill me eventually, so why not go down fighting?” I throw a sarcastic smile his way, and maybe it’s the lack of food and water, but I swear he looks impressed.
“All you have to do is tell us where the others are and we’ll let you go.”
So, they’re looking for other people. Has Julian sent others to try to take down the prince? It wouldn’t surprise me. I wonder how many died before me trying to get the job done.
I wonder, Athriel drawls.
I tip my head back and laugh, trying to ignore the pain it sends through my chest.
“Yeah, right, that’s my only bargaining chip right now. I killed your prince. You’ll kill me the first chance you get.”
He shrugs. “True, but at least this way it’ll be a quick death. You keep up this little game, and a few of the others won’t hesitate to start torturing you.”
I push my body off the wall and look him dead in the eyes.
“I look forward to it.”
He shakes his head in disbelief, but he doesn’t hide his smile either.
“You’re pretty badass for a human, I’ll give you that, Red.”
I squint my brow. “Red?”
He shrugs again. “You used your blood to poison the prince so…Red. Feels like a fitting name.”
I go to correct him and tell him that it was black at the time, but this may be one little secret that I still hold.
If they don’t know exactly how I poisoned him, then there is every chance that I can take down a few more of them.
All I need is something sharp and a way out of these shadow bindings.
“Well, it sounds stupid,” I say, and a smile twists the tawny beige skin of his face.
For the first time, I realize how alike he and the one he called Kaia look.
Except where he seems playful and happy, she is cruel and deadly.
The thought of them makes my mind wander to Willow.
My gut twists in response, fear trickling through me as I wonder if she may be in a similar situation.
Gods, I hope not. I would tear this entire realm apart to get to her if she is.
But Amabel made a promise. Not that I trust her, but for now, that’s all I have—the only thing I can truly hold on to. I have to believe that killing the prince is keeping Willow alive, because if it isn’t, then I truly have nothing left.
The days go by in a blur, and I almost lose sight of what life was like before this cell. My only company is Athriel and the dripping water.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Kaia came back the day after she first graced me with her delightful presence, but this time the blond male was with her. His name is Eamon, General of the Royal Guard. He doesn’t speak much, but I’m pretty sure he only came down to make sure Kaia didn’t kill me.
Piper made her first appearance a few days ago, and I almost laughed at the obvious technique these fools are using.
Send in the one who seems sweet and kind.
Oldest trick in the book. They think it’ll help to break me down, but it only proves that whatever information they think I have is too valuable to kill me over.
Piper just arrived a few minutes ago, and now she is wrapping a bandage around my arm, covering a cut I received when I tried my luck with the shadow bars of my cell.
They look wispy, but they are sharp as hell.
I learned that today when I tried to squeeze between them.
She’s being ridiculously gentle as though I’m a piece of glass.
If only she knew that even if I were made of glass, I’d use myself to slit her throat.
I nearly felt guilty earlier at the thought of killing her, and that was my clear sign that I needed to get the hell out of here.
Vampires are master manipulators. It’s how they reel us in and then take the kill.
I don’t trust a single one of them, especially ones who appear to be nice like her.
In fact, they’re the most dangerous of them all.
Yet, I do look forward to her visits since they’re the only ones where I receive food, and I need all I can get if I plan to get out of here. I wince as she wraps the bandage a little too tightly, and her hands instantly still.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
I keep my eyes on her. I can actually see her through both of them now since she’s been applying some kind of ointment to the swollen one.
“I know why they sent you in. Give me food, tend to my wounds, make conversation. It’s all very clever, but you can tell your little friends that it won’t work. Let me leave, and you will receive the information you want.” The lie falls off my tongue with ease.
“That’s not a decision I can make.”
I scoff. “You’re a part of the royal guard, aren’t you? Surely your opinion stands for something.”
She shrugs, and sadness flickers across her face, but it’s gone before I can even think on it.
“I’m still in training. I don’t have much of a say, I’m afraid. I would have had to fight in the war to earn that.”
Her words surprise me, and despite myself, I can’t help but pry.
“You didn’t fight in the war?” Most vampires were alive then, since their extended years gift them lifetimes that they don’t deserve, while the rest of us die at the hands of vampires and the burn pit. My stomach coils at the thought, and I try to push down the anger that is building inside me.
“I was too young.”
I almost laugh at her admission. Vampires are centuries old. There’s no such thing as too young.
“You regret not fighting?”
The words fall out before I can stop them. I try to convince myself that I’m only asking to gain information and not because I want the answer for myself.
She turns over my palm, her eyes scanning over the stitched cut in my hand. She never heals my wounds with venom, and something tells me that it is a calculated move. I try not to wince as she stretches the skin, but the stinging makes it difficult.
“I see no solution in war. It’s just two sets of people fighting for what they believe in, when if they were to just communicate, they may discover that they have far more in common than they know. I only wish that I could have taken the burden away from my friends and family. The things they saw—”
“It was no better for humans either,” I snap. Her eyes lift to mine, and there’s a flicker of sadness in them, but I ignore it. “The only difference is that we have no tomes to look back at the heroes who fought for our side. You erased everything our ancestors had and made us the enemy.”
She dips her head as though truly ashamed. After a second, she scrambles to her feet.
“I’m sorry. I have to leave.”
She moves quickly toward the stairs, and I almost stand to call out to her, to apologize, but then I remember what she is. A vampire. A monster. My enemy. There is nothing I wish to apologize for. And yet something tugs deep within me.