Chapter 2 #3
Only a few blocks were occupied by the towering buildings that made up the business sector. Those streets were constantly packed, both with tourists looking to get a peek at the Alpha Pack and with the massive number of people who worked there.
Everything outside the business sector was a little more spread out, though the elaborate stonework and stunning, taller-than-necessary buildings continued through the entirety of our (ironically) vast city.
You could drive through most of the city, but not the business sector. That had to be walked through, unless you were really fucking rich.
Like the werewolf carrying me.
“If you didn’t want the world to know you were a vampire, you shouldn’t have killed Steven,” Maverick said.
There was no missing the gasps from the people around us.
“Don’t act like you’ve never killed anyone. And I told you, I didn’t drain him. I wouldn’t still be bleeding right now if I did.”
Maverick ignored me and stepped through an automatic door. “We don’t kill humans.”
I expected more of his buddies to be waiting inside the werewolves’ tower, but the lobby was empty. I guess the Alpha Pack didn’t need security. Anyone who trespassed would promptly find themselves lacking a throat.
Maverick walked through the lobby and down a short hallway. The stone tile on the floor was similar to the stuff in Darkwood Investments, but the color was lighter and warmer. Just like the office building, the decor was a lot more nature-focused than the structural design of the walls and windows.
The flooring was consistent down the hall and into an expansive room. My eyes widened when I saw the only thing that occupied the large, open space:
Two rows of cells that could only really be called cages.
Each of them was about the size of my bedroom in the small apartment Harper and I shared. They were all formed with metal bars that looked like silver, which werewolves were basically allergic to.
The silver was a good sign, actually.
It meant their cages weren’t made just for vampires. Silver didn’t affect us, but it burned them.
Maverick placed his hand on a scanner at the front of one of the cages, and a moment later, the door swung open automatically.
He set me down me just inside it and kicked the door shut, not touching the metal with his bare skin.
I glared at him, and he studied me. His eyes were still glowing. I wasn’t sure if that meant something or not. Other than seeing werewolves’ pictures on the news and being trained to fear them, I didn’t know much about them.
“You can’t keep me here without evidence that I killed Steven,” I said. “And there is no evidence, because I didn’t kill him.”
It was bullshit. The first part, at least.
Maverick could do whatever he wanted. Who was going to stop him? He was at the top of the food chain.
The Alpha folded his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his t-shirt strained ridiculously against his gigantic, ink-covered muscles.
“There’s an actual killer out there.” I gestured in the direction of my office building. Or my old office building. The chance of anyone letting me go back to work, if by some miracle the Alpha let me leave his pack’s tower alive, seemed pretty slim.
“There’s an actual killer in here.”
I scoffed. “You should really talk about yourself more positively, Alpha.”
His eyes narrowed.
Sarcasm probably wasn’t the best call, but the werewolves were almost definitely going to kill me. So, what did it really matter?
“You’re on thin ice, Bloom.”
At least he didn’t say my name in the dickish way he had earlier.
“I’m in a cage, with a chunk taken out of my neck. I don’t think the ice gets thinner than this.”
“I didn’t take a chunk. It’s just a bite.”
“Why does the bite exist at all?” I pressed.
Maverick’s phone rang in his pocket. I half expected the ringtone to sound like that bullhorn he’d blared.
He lifted the device to his ear and strode out of the room. The door shut hard behind him.
I pulled my hand away from my neck wound and carefully prodded the skin, wincing a few times as I did. It didn’t feel like I was bleeding anymore, though it wasn’t scabbed over or anything.
When I looked down at my hand, my palm was stained crimson.
I’d lost a fair amount of blood. Especially for a creature who couldn’t create my own and whose body burned through blood to power it.
It didn’t help that I’d made the truly terrible decision not to feed for two weeks in a row.
The Guild’s rules were starting to sound extremely important.
My fangs were still throbbing, and I could still smell the Alpha’s ridiculous scent in the air. Lifting my palm, I sniffed the blood, trying to determine if that was the source of the scent.
Yeah, there was Maverick’s vanilla.
And cinnamon.
A quiet groan escaped me, and I dropped my hand to the tile. My fangs weren’t going anywhere. Not with his scent lingering on my skin and in my blood thanks to his bite.
Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the wound was really starting to hurt, too
The pain wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as the knowledge that even if I managed to get out of the cell, my life as it currently existed was over.
At least I could stop wearing contacts.