Chapter 5
My heart jumps, skittering hard against my ribs at the blissful thought of being outside. To feel a breeze. To smell clean air. To let the sun, or the moon, bathe my skin.
I’ve not felt that in what feels like forever.
But to get that, I’ll need to give him my name.
I lied when I said I didn’t know where any of my kind were. Technically, I know of one, but he can’t reach them and I don’t want him, or anyone to.
I’m sure there are some of my kind tucked away, hidden within the Mundane population. There aren’t many of us left, but I could try and point him in the right direction if I wanted to. The real question is—why would I?
We’ve suffered too much already, bled dry by hate and the lies they built around us.
He says he’s looking for someone, but that could just be a story. A distraction. A lie.
More likely, he’s a hunter of my people. Probably hired by the same Hexborn that cursed me… It’s the only thing that makes sense for why he even knows I’m here.
Still… regardless of all of that, the prospect of feeling Vendra even for a moment makes me want to give into the request without a fight.
“Did you hear me, Witch?!” the warden shouts.
I swallow and nod. “I did.”
“And?!”
I’m acutely aware of where everyone stands.
My sense of proximity sharpens—sound and scent folding around me—because my eyes stay closed. They always do when anyone’s near. It’s safer that way.
But it’s that damn Vampire’s presence that suffocates me. I hadn’t been lying about that. It’s like he’s taking up the whole room, my entire world, pressing down on me until my throat tightens and air becomes something I have to fight for.
“I want to go outside first.”
Jozier laughs, and so does Anders, the second guard that’s typically on my watch.
Warden Sook tuts. “No, you’ll write it down and once our… friend leaves—”
“We aren’t friends.” Gods, he may as well be Vaeloris incarnate with his voice. It’s deep, husky, and when he groans it’s like a damn bear warning to stay away from its food.
I try to turn my head, but Sook’s grip clamps down hard.
“I swear to my God, I’ll tell him.”
His hand tightens, and I grind my teeth to keep from reacting.
“I’m not negotiating with a fucking prisoner. Chain it back to the wall and let it sit. Butcher, you’ll have to come back.”
Fumbling with my bound hands, I shift them just enough for the rough metal to bite into my wrist. Warm liquid seeps free. The sharp inhale from the Vampire tells me he’s noticed.
“I vow by my own blood, I’ll tell him once I’m allowed outside.”
“That shit means nothing here—”
“She’s bleeding.” Butcher cuts in, calm but curious. “What does she mean, ‘I vow by my own blood’?”
Sook grumbles something under his breath before replying. “It means she risks a self-imposed hex on her entire bloodline if she breaks the vow.”
It doesn’t matter. They’re all fucking dead. However, they don’t need to know that.
It irks me how much he knows about my kind. The Hexborn from Sidence that put the wards around my cell gave them all a history lesson while they tortured me on my arrival.
Sure, whatever, criminal. I deserved it.
“Then take her outside,” the Vampire states.
“No, it’s a trick,” Jozier says quickly. “We can’t take her outside—”
“You will. I will get what I came for, or like I said, I’ll keep coming back and I promise you don’t want that.”
Gods, just to be outside once… please…
Sook releases my face with a hard thrust, sending my chest straight to the table. I’m barely capable of stopping my body from leaning forward and face planting into the cold metal.
“You have to consume her blood to—”
“No.” Butcher cuts off the warden. “Her drawing it is enough for me. I won’t put that filth inside me.”
The two officers snicker.
I don’t react. Being called filth is the least degrading thing I’ve been called in my life.
They grab my cuffs and yank me out of the chair. My arms fold at an awkward angle and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning in pain.
We move in a wobbly shuffle; this is the first time I’ve walked but a few feet in who knows how long.
As we step outside of my cell, the wards drop and my senses fight for dominance.
Salty air, body sweat, the hum of the kitchen.
It hits me so hard I nearly break. For so long all I smelled was the bodies brought into my cell and the iron of my own blood.
“You’re going through a lot of trouble for this,” Anders says dryly.
My wrists go taut and I’m forced to stop. “One moment,” Jozier says.
“The reasoning is worth the inconvenience.”
Fingers comb up my neck and goosebumps rise along my arms. He gathers my hair and yanks it back into a messy knot. Jozier’s hot breath ghosts my neck. “Can’t have you getting it dirty—it’s such a struggle to keep clean as it is.”
Well, that’s your problem.
“What’s a Witch’s name going to do for you?” Sook asks as Jozier wrestles my hair into a lop-sided bun. The weight of it has me sighing. I wish they’d cut it—though there are a lot of things I wish for these days.
Hair cutting is very near the bottom of the list.
“There we go,” he whispers, hands resting on my shoulders. I hear the smile in his voice. “Be good, and I won’t have to hit you again.”
“None of your business.” Butcher’s tone just gets more and more clipped as time progresses.
These men have nothing better to do. Of course they’re going to be in your business, Vamp. What did you expect?
We keep walking. I don’t pay attention to where we’re going or how many turns we take. I’ve never tried to escape, and I don’t plan to. Maybe that makes me weak, but I choose to see it as smart. I know I’m meant to be here, and as crazy as it sounds, I’m probably safest here.
Regardless of the things they do to me.
I could be in a place so much worse than this…
Before I know it, we’ve stopped. The chatter around me has blended into nothing, ignored because none of it was for me. You’d think someone who’s spent years in near-solitary would want to hear voices again. But no. I like it quiet.
“Two minutes, starting now,” the warden says, voice full of distaste.
The first touch of sea breeze hits me and I almost don’t believe it’s real. A soft sound slips from my throat, half-whimper, half-breath. When they give me the space to move, I step through the doorway.
My bare feet find cold metal flooring, the small holes biting into my skin. I can’t tell how large this area is, but I walk anyway. There are no footsteps behind me, though my arms are still bound. They won’t let me get far; I can’t imagine the chain attached is too lengthy.
The cool wisp of air makes me gasp. Its salty whisper against my skin is so foreign after what feels like forever of stagnant air.
I draw in a deep breath, filling my lungs with freedom. A sensation I thought I’d never taste again until the world turned to ash, me along with it. The air feels pure, alive. For a fleeting moment, I’m part of it again.
“Hey—” It’s that Butcher guy.
Sudden footsteps pound the metal behind me, and before I can turn, a sharp tug yanks me backward. I plant my foot to steady myself.
“I still fucking need her,” he snaps.
Jozier laughs, joined by Anders. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I pull away, creating what little space I can.
Slowly, I peel my eyes open and look outward. Cliffs rise to my left in the distance; everywhere else, endless open water. The sky burns in streaks of orange and pink as the sun bleeds out its last light across Vendra’s world.
I breathe in sharply and glance down. One step more and I would’ve fallen. The sight doesn’t scare me. The dizzying drop, the jagged rocks waiting below. None of it stirs fear. My heart stays steady.
Part of me wishes they’d let go, even if all it would do is hurt me.
I’m sure I have fear somewhere inside me, but falling from here doesn’t elicit that feeling.
My lips part, and as I release a sigh of relief, I mutter, “Vendra?”
That was stupid—I know it was—yet I still felt the impulse to call to my God, hoping she might hear me.
The moment my chain jerks back, my eyes squeeze shut and I hit the ground hard. Pain explodes across my lower back as a few of my fingers crush against the metal grid beneath me.
“Told you!” Anders shouts.
“No, no—” I try to push up, but a heavy boot slams into my shoulder, rolling me onto my stomach. “I-I was just—”
The words die as my face is driven into the grate. Metal bites deep, cutting skin. “Stop!” I barely choke out.
Whoever’s foot presses into the back of my neck grinds my cheek deeper into the grid until the skin splits open.
“Enough! This is wasting my fucking time.”
The pressure lifts, and suddenly I’m weightless and hoisted off the ground like a ragdoll. A moment later I’m slung over a broad shoulder, and by the smell of him, it’s the Vampire.
I’d been right. He’s massive. My gods.
“Put it down, it can walk!” Jozier shouts.
With my ass in the air and my hands bound, my head keeps bouncing against Butcher’s back. I want to tell him to just toss me into the sea, but we’re already inside. Besides, I could probably ask him to spit on me, and he still wouldn’t.
“Butcher!” someone shouts, but he doesn’t stop. He’s moving fast, climbing the stairs, and I can tell when we reach my floor. The air shifts, the sound dulls, and the wards snap back around me.
His grip slides to my hips as he lowers me down, moving so quickly I barely have time to catch myself. Actually, I don’t. He grabs my arms and forces my back straight.
“Give me your name.”
I swallow hard, eyes squeezing shut. “Pen and paper.”
“Just—godsdamnit!” He vanishes from in front of me, and I stumble back. My hip clips the edge of the table, and when I brace a hand against it, something slick coats my palm.
My feet slip, skidding on the cold floor, but I manage to catch myself before I hit the ground. My pinky screams in protest. Broken? Probably. I’m bleeding, that much I know. It hurts like the Beyond, and moving it just makes it worse.
After a few beats, his heavy footsteps approach. “They’re grabbing it.”
“They need to be…” Pain flickers through my face as my split cheek shifts when I speak. “Out of the room. They can’t have my n—”
“Yeah, yeah. This is so fucking weird.” His tone drips with frustration. “You do understand how weird this is? The name thing.”
I shake my head. I don’t find it strange at all. Our names are sacred, the truest thing we own. It’s the first gift our parents give us after life itself, and the only thing we carry into death.
Choosing to ignore his ignorance, I stand still, waiting. A minute passes before footsteps return, faint but growing louder.
“Get out,” the Vampire snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut through the air. He sounds more like the warden, than the warden himself.
“Butcher—” Sook goes to protest.
“I’m so over this place and you. Just go and once she’s done, I’m gone.”
Once the warden leaves, the scrape of paper against metal breaks the silence, followed by Butcher’s hand closing around my wrist. He presses a pen into my palm and folds my fingers over it, his grip firm, impatient.
He lingers close enough that I can feel his presence at my back. I reach forward, searching for the page. When my slick fingers find the edge, I bend over it and begin to write my name.
A.M.A.R.A.H. H.O.L.L.?.W.A.Y.
Once done, I drop the pen and step back.
Butcher snatches the paper—I can hear it by the sharp rustle—then I turn my back to him. He grunts, sounding less than pleased, but I’ve already given what I was meant to. And in return, I got something I didn’t want.
A reminder that freedom isn’t meant for someone like me.
Painful, really.
My space is suddenly invaded, and I wonder if this man has ever heard of personal boundaries. I turn, tilting my head up though my eyes stay shut.
He doesn’t speak at first. I can feel him looking at me, maybe to assess my truth? At this point, there is no real reason to give him a false name.
“Thanks,” he says at last, his voice low, fading with his retreating steps.
I wait until I hear the door opening before I dare to open one eye. Just enough to see his back disappear through the threshold.
Good luck, Vamp.
With a small exhale, I shut my eye again, turn toward the wall, and wait to be chained back.