Chapter 2 #2
“What?” I shouted, hands squeezing the bars for support. My heart thudded and my legs went numb with fear. The hair on Grim’s back stood tall, both of us scared for what this might mean for us. “Like The House of Shadows?”
“Yeah.”
“As in Roman Zarka’s den?”
The man laughed at that and took a few steps closer. “Well, I wouldn’t really call it a den—”
“It’s a vampire lair,” I interrupted, knowing all too well the stories about this place that traveled through the streets of New Orleans.
“Lair is still a strong word,” he added with a smile.
“This isn’t funny,” I pushed out through gritted teeth. “I can’t be here. I need to get out of this place and—”
“Calm down.”
I’d been yanking on the bars as though I could break free. Grim paced back and forth between the stranger and me, a warning to him and a comfort for me. “Calm down?” I spat.
“Yes, calm down.” The deep timbre in his voice and his quiet tone made me wonder if he was trying to compel me. But he wasn’t a vampire. At least I didn’t think he was. “If Roman wanted you dead, you would be dead.”
“Well, that’s not comforting at all,” I grumbled as I stepped away from the bars.
“It should be. Roman doesn’t usually play nice with those who steal from him.”
“What?” I shouted again, a new surge of panic racing through my blood. It squeezed my chest and cut off all rational thought. “I didn’t steal from him! I was just stealing from…”
The man gave me a knowing nod.
“The necklace belongs to Roman?” I whispered, finally putting it together.
“It does.” He walked closer to the cage, watching Grim but not hesitating when he bared his teeth at him. “As I said, Roman doesn’t usually keep thieves like you alive. So, he must want something else from you.” Reaching his hand out toward the bars, he said, “I’m Pasha.”
I hesitated a moment before sticking my arm through the cage and grabbing his hand. “Katarina.” When he looked down toward the dog giving him the evil eye, I added, “And that’s Grim.”
“Grim?” he asked with a laugh. “Perfect name.”
Grim stepped forward and sniffed at Pasha’s outstretched hand, eyes never leaving the man’s.
And while he didn’t let Pasha pet him, Grim sniffed a few more times before sitting on the ground between us.
A type of acceptance. One that told Pasha he was allowed to talk to us but better watch his attitude.
“Pasha, do you know what they want with me?”
He shook his head and walked back toward his desk. “I do not. But I’m sure you will find out soon enough.” Then, as though realizing he should ask, he added, “Do you need anything? Water maybe?”
“Yes, water would be great.”
“Okay. Be right back.” Pasha pulled on the door…and left it open as he disappeared down the hallway to the left. Grim and I shared a look. Had he really just done that?
“Well, I’m the one stuck in here,” I grumbled to my dog. Again, why wasn’t he in a cage too? “Go see what you can find out.”
Grim nodded and pushed his head into my hand one last time before trotting toward the open door.
I sat down in the middle of the cage, crossed my legs, and closed my eyes so I could focus on our psychic connection.
Grim hesitated in the doorway looking left and right and then decided to follow Pasha’s path.
In my mind I watched as he walked down a hallway made of stone. Like old stones—the kind carved centuries ago in a technique rarely seen in modern structures. An old stone building? Well, shit. That could be almost anywhere in New Orleans.
Grim trotted down the hall, his toenails making the slightest clicking sound on the floor. The ceiling was rounded but high enough that it didn’t feel closed in. Some kind of tunnel system that must be underground since the sconces on the walls every five feet were the only source of light.
Grim suddenly stopped, and through our connection, I knew why. Voices. He’d made it to an intersection where the only choice was to turn left or right. The voices were coming from the right, so Grim peeked his head around to corner to track them down.
“I’m just taking her some water, Roman. Relax.” Pasha’s accent made it easy to identify him although Grim couldn’t really see any bodies.
“You shouldn’t talk to her,” a deep, angry voice demanded.
“I’m fine,” Pasha said, a hint of laughter buried beneath his words. “You locked her in a cage, remember?”
“We don’t know what she’s capable of,” the voice continued.
“We know she needs water, Roman. And I’m going to take it to her.”
Grim still couldn’t see the two men, but the distinct sound of someone planting a kiss on a person gave us both an image of what was happening. Pasha and Roman? Roman the most ruthless vampire in the city?
Grim quickly trotted down the left hallway and disappeared around a bend before Pasha could see him.
I knew this because just a few seconds later, Pasha was back in the room with me.
He stopped in the doorway, scanning the room for Grim.
I broke the psychic connection just long enough to speak. “Grim went for a walk.”
Pasha opened his mouth and then closed it again several times, like a fish out of water. But then he must have decided that Grim’s “escape” wasn’t that big of a deal and walked to my cage with the large bottle of water.
“I guess that won’t hurt anything,” he said cryptically as I grabbed the drink.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
The cool liquid slid down my throat in relief as I realized just how thirsty I really was. Pasha returned to the monitors and started quickly typing away. When he sat, I could barely see his head anymore. And assuming our conversation was over, I focused on re-opening my connection with Grim.
He was still standing in a hallway, but this time the hallway ended in a large room.
The ceilings were at least three stories high and covered with large, wooden beams that arched in a pattern to emphasize the vault.
Tall, stained-glass windows decorated the far wall, letting in enough light that showed Grim and me that it was daytime outside.
On the left, a stone fireplace the size of my apartment was centered on the wall, the rock accents covering the chimney from floor to ceiling.
On the right sat a large, mahogany table with enough chairs to seat at least fifty.
And standing in the middle of the room were three men having some type of argument.
“I don’t understand what he wants from her.”
“What? She’s pretty. What do you think he wants?”
“No, it’s not that,” the third man said. “He wants to know why the coven’s been hiding her.”
Hiding me? Grim and I shared the same question in our minds. The coven wasn’t hiding me. They’ve been using me, sure. But it was never a secret.
“He’s making a mistake.” Grim focused closely on the men, sneaking into the room a little more so he could see their faces.
“She’s trouble.” The voice sounded so familiar…
like I’d heard it before…oh, wait. He was the scary giant man hiding in the corner the other night. The one who told Roman to hurry up.
I swallowed hard as a wave of fear swept through the both of us. Grim smelled the men and recognized one of them. It was the wolf. One of the men was the werewolf who had hurt my boy.
I shouted in my head for Grim to get out of there. We’d find another way to get information. Maybe through Pasha. He seemed nice enough. Maybe we could even—
“Well, what do we have here?”
Someone grabbed Grim by the scruff of his neck and lifted him off the ground. It was no small feat considering the size of my dog and the strength it would take to both surprise him and to hold him.
“Looks like someone is awake,” the voice said, holding Grim toward the middle of the room, pointing him away so I couldn’t see his face.
“Roman,” the largest man sighed, “I told you we should have locked them up together.”
Roman twisted Grim in his grip and stared directly into his eyes. “Why, hello there, Katarina. I think it’s time for the two of us to meet.”
I snapped free of the vision a second later. No, I didn’t do it. Roman had somehow kicked me out of my connection with Grim.
And now he was coming to find me.