Bitter End (The Darkverse #5)
Chapter 1
The cell I was shoved into at the county jail was nothing like the room my uncle Ryan and Estelle had kept me in all those months. It wasn’t hollow and cold. It wasn’t sterile, save for the smell of congealing blood left behind by the occupant before me.
Despite this, my brain just couldn't wrap itself around it. Somehow it refused to come to terms with the fact that this was technically, completely legal, and above board. This wasn’t some secret testing facility run by a deranged witch and her political puppet.
This was a cut-and-dry crime and punishment.
Only one teeny, tiny fucking problem... I didn’t commit the damn crime.
These law enforcement officers were not, in fact, attempting to inject me with drugs or mess with my genetic code in any way.
But I kept a close eye on everyone who came in and out of that door.
Every officer who helped yet another detainee enter the common cell posed a risk.
That's what my perpetually shattered mind told me, at least.
The smell of rusted metal bars, piss, and sweat, as well as the low murmur of voices, brought the panic back with unexpected force.
I’d never wanted to talk to Serenity more than at this exact moment.
I needed her to tell me how the fuck she did it.
How she got through the pain in order to function normally.
It wasn’t like I was walking around in fear of every shadow.
I wasn’t rocking back and forth in some mental hospital, screaming at ghosts.
But I was still haunted. The knowledge that I wasn't safe just because Estelle lacked magic haunted me. I wasn’t safe just because I had three darkling bodyguards.
I was suddenly thrust right back into a small box that I couldn’t escape, and the darkness continued to close in around me.
"We’re coming for you, gorgeous. Sit tight, and don’t say a word.
We’re coming." Thane’s last words to me were repeated in my head about a million times over.
I wanted to believe him. They would come for me, just like Serenity had come for me last time.
The whole pack had come, and the vampire coven, too.
I wasn’t as alone as my mind tried to trick me into believing.
"Don’t answer any of their questions, Beatrix.
Do as they say and don’t make a fuss, understand?
Your life depends on it." What did he mean? I thought Thane and War were supposed to be on the side of law enforcement. War was a high-ranking officer in the military, and Thane used to be. Why would they want me to stay silent when I wasn’t supposed to be here?
I didn’t kill Savannah. As much as I would love nothing more than to claim I did, I just didn't. I kicked her ass into next fucking week, sure, but murder? No. Someone else had been watching our fight that night, and they’d been plotting.
Someone knew exactly how it would look for that traitorous bitch to turn up dead after a fight like that.
The voice of a familiar news anchor caught my attention.
I looked up from where I sat tucked in the corner on the floor of the cell, watching the small TV that hung up on the far wall.
The volume was too low for a human to hear, but for me, it was crystal clear.
The woman reported on the discovery of Savannah Blood Moon’s remains.
She’d been found mauled to death and left to rot in a back alleyway near the bad part of town.
Images of the crime scene played out: yellow caution tape blocking off the entrance to the alley, police officers scrambling everywhere, doing nothing.
I’d never even been to that part of the city before, much less hunted down Savannah, somehow sneaking up on her and murdering her for all to see.
Sol City was a busy place. If I were going to kill someone, it wouldn’t be out in public like that.
I swallowed hard as my own image popped up on the screen.
There were several people in the cell with me, and they all looked at me, one by one, as if I was about to go feral and attack them right here.
The anchor went on to talk about Estelle’s trial and how the nature of it may have been what pushed me over the edge and sent me into a murderous craze.
They debated on whether or not it was wise to let the darklings—who’d been experimented on—go free, claiming that maybe eventually we would all go feral.
If that wasn’t already bad enough, grainy footage of that night’s fight was played.
Savannah and I circled each other in human form.
Then, as wolves, we clashed. Blood splattered, and the crowd cheered as we ripped into each other relentlessly.
I could still taste the tang of her blood, and a part of me hungered for it.
I spent the next few hours watching the news on repeat. The same fucking story My expression, the fight, and the crime scene. It was the biggest news story to break in Sol City since Estelle’s trial was announced, and it was probably the same back in Noc.
The cold cement floor made my whole body ache, and I was getting hungry.
They’d given us meals, but I couldn’t trust them.
The last time I was held captive, my meals were drugged so heavily that they kept me weak and unable to defend myself.
Logically, I knew this wasn’t the same, but my brain and my stomach didn’t care.
It was close to eight hours into my stay when I was pulled from the cell and led down a hallway.
This time, I was on my feet instead of dangling lifelessly between two guards.
Instead of nondescript metal doors with screams coming from behind them, the halls were lined with offices with small plaques on them.
They put me in an interrogation room. The type you see in crime shows. I was given a glass of water, which I ignored, even though it taunted me. My mouth was so fucking dry, and I felt like I was getting ready to pass out, but I wouldn’t let them fuck with my head. Not again. Never again.
I’d been in this room before. Once when I was first arrested.
A good cop would saunter in and offer me coffee or water, which I turned down every time, and ask me a few mundane questions about my whereabouts after my fight with Savannah.
When Good Cop didn’t like my answer, Bad Cop would take his place.
Bad Cop threatened me, sitting so close that I had to blink the stinging tears from my eyes as the smell of his onion breath wafted in them.
After hours of fruitless questioning once again, they sent me back to the shared holding cell, pissed off at the fact that the only words of use I uttered at the end were, ‘I want my lawyer.’ They were the words no cop ever wanted to hear.
Once again, I refused to eat a morsel of what they gave us that night. Even though my head was spinning and my mouth was dry, I wouldn’t allow them to control me. I didn’t trust any of these fuckers not to slip a little something special into my food to make my answers a little more agreeable.
My wolf itched to break free. She wanted to run.
To burst out of this cage and disappear into the trees until she reached Blood Moon territory, so many miles away.
My muscles ached with the urge to shift.
I’d only just gotten control over it this past year, but I’d never pushed my limits.
A wild animal prowled beneath my skin, and she was slowly rising to the surface with every hour that passed.
It was close to the next morning when the story broke.
The words flashed across the small screen, and it was like the world stopped. Everyone in the cell, outside the cell, and on the screen seemed to be staring at me. They stared at me in pity. In horror.
“We are receiving reports that the famous clan leader Estelle Nightingale has escaped custody and is now on the run. Although stripped of her magic for now, she is considered armed and dangerous.”
The news anchors clamored to be the first to report on it, repeating the same words in different ways. Their expressions concealed a sort of glee that made me want to vomit. To them, this was all just a game. Who was right and who was wrong wasn’t important. All that mattered was the spectacle.
Back in the day, Serenity used to groan about Ryan’s speeches and how all he ever did was pander to what was popular.
What got him the votes. He twisted people’s emotions and used them against the masses to spread fear and hatred.
I learned a long time ago that hatred was a much easier tool than logic.
Hatred could compel even the most righteous of us to do disgusting things.