CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ailsa
I WOKE TO the sensation of something cold and wet hitting my face, accompanied by a pounding headache that made me feel like my skull had been split clean in two.
Water.
That was my first coherent thought. I sucked in a sharp breath, coughing slightly as I dragged myself upright, fingers coming up instinctively to wipe at my face. Everything felt slow, thick, like I was moving through something heavier than air.
“Oh good, you’re finally awake,” a baritone voice drawled, cutting through the fog.
It was low and male, but I couldn’t quite place his accent.
He wasn’t from here, not native at least, but I’d guess he'd spent a fair amount of time here. “Let’s make this quick, yeah? I have a long list of places I’d rather be right now,” he said—before I could even begin to get my bearings—twirling a pen as he looked over a file in his hand.
I blinked hard, forcing my vision to steady as I tried to focus on him. He stood a few feet away, completely at ease. If anything, he seemed mildly irritated that I was somehow inconveniencing his day.
He was tall, his build lean but solid—that much was obvious even beneath the well-tailored suit.
Dark hair, slightly dishevelled in a way that looked unintentional, like maybe he’d ran his hands through it one too many times.
He might have been considered handsome if it weren’t for his complete lack of warmth.
His features were sharp and controlled and everything about him felt dangerous.
Then it hit me.
It was him, the vampire that had chased me down.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“What did you do to me?” I managed, my voice rough as I wiped the remaining water from my face, forcing myself to take in my surroundings properly.
A cell.
The realisation made me uneasy. “Who the fuck are you?”
He scratched his chin absently, finally looking up from the file. His gaze dragged over me in a slow, unimpressed sweep. Whatever amusement I thought I’d seen before was gone now, replaced with boredom.
“I’ll be the one asking the questions. Now, why don’t you tell me who you are?”
“Where am I?” I shot back.
He let out an exacerbated exhale. “In a cell, I would have thought that was rather obvious,” he said, his tone flat. “Name?”
“Fuck you,” I spat, crossing my arms. I sure as shit wasn’t going to answer his questions if he didn’t answer mine.
He set the file and pen on the floor next to him and he crouched down in front of me.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared me down.
His eyes were the most unique shade of brown I’d ever seen.
It was like they were speckled with silvery grey.
“Look, we can do this the easy way or the messy way.”
I huffed, refusing to answer him.
“Alrighty then,” he said, getting up. “So here’s what I know, your name is Ailsa Delaney, you live in that little flat on Victoria Street and work as a pastry chef at Brown’s Family Bakery.
You have a decent taste in music and according to your birth certificate you were born on the ninth of November nineteen seventy-two, making you twenty-seven. ”
What kind of game was this? How the fuck had he gathered so much information about me? Who was he?
“The part that has me stumped, Ailsa—I’m just going to go ahead and use that name, even though I know it’s not your real name—,” he said, his tone dropping. “Is that before two days ago, you had somehow managed to avoid detection, right here in my city, under my nose.”
Shit.
He knew practically everything about me.
He slowly rose to his feet, now towering above me. His movements had me backing up on instinct. “Look,” I said slowly, hands raised. “Everything you’ve said is true, and I don’t know why you think there’s more to it. Why not just let me go and we can pretend this never happened.”
The corner of his lips arched ever so slightly, pulling my attention to the snake bite piercings he had. “We’re just getting started, and I will get the truth from you. So, I’ll ask again, and I suggest you answer, because next time I won’t use words to get an answer. Who are you?”
I swallowed hard. Regardless of if this idiot was just plain stupid or not, he was quite clearly stronger than me and he had me cornered.
“My. Name. Is. Ailsa,” I said, taking another step backward causing my back to collide with the stone wall of the back of the cell. What the hell did he want me to say?
“Wrong answer.” He prowled toward me and I’d never felt so much like damn prey, the panic in me surging to the surface causing me to show my vampiric nature.
I swallowed hard, realising my mistake.
“There she is,” he grinned, cracking his knuckles.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I hissed defensively. Bracing myself.
His hand wrapped around my throat as he pushed me to my knees. “Tell me what I want to know and this will all be over before you have time to cry about it.”
“You already know everything about me,” I growled as I fought against his hold, my fight or flight taking over. My pulse was sky rocketing and my heart thrummed in my ears, but I regained control, my fangs retreating. And I looked him squarely in the eyes. “I’m not whoever you think I am.”
“So you didn’t straight up murder poor old Timothy outside of his own bookstore,” he asked, confirming my suspicion that he was part of the police—or whatever the fuck they fancied calling themselves.
“That wasn’t me,” I said. Because it wasn’t, at least it wasn’t a part of me I recognised and I sure as shit didn’t do it deliberately.
I couldn’t even remember what had really happened that night.
I hadn't meant to kill him, and if I could take it back I would. But I didn’t see the point of trying to explain that to him.
He seemed to have his mind made up. Plus, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d hit his mark and bothered me.
“And last night?” He asked. “When you ripped into that man’s neck? He’s alive by the way, thinks he got into a fight and someone shanked him with a broken bottle. Not that you seem to care… and that’s the problem you see. Supernaturals can’t just go around killing humans so carelessly."
Interesting that, so it wasn’t the killing itself that was the problem.
It was carelessness. Though I had to admit, I was glad to hear the man was alive.
He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Self-preservation,” I said, matter-of-factly.
“I needed to distract you. I’d say that worked. ”
He tilted his head slightly, looking down at me, his gaze burning through me as he considered me.
“Who made you?” He asked, letting go of my neck, changing the subject and I could have sworn there was genuine curiosity behind the question.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. Because I didn’t.
What did he mean by made? Like made me a vampire? Was I made? I suppose I had to be, but I really had no clue about that…
He chuckled darkly. “I see.”
Then he banged the metal bars of the cell three times. To which another presence appeared outside the cell. A woman.
She moved with a silent fluidity that terrified me a little.
Another vampire no doubt. She was taller than me, not by much, but her build was leaner and much stronger than mine—I was sure.
Long copper hair framed her face in a way that made me feel inadequate.
She was stunning, and I found myself speechless as her eyes moved over me, quickly and efficiently taking everything in without lingering unnecessarily.
“Get your answers yet?” She asked, her tone bored.
“Not quite, but I have an inkling about something. Mind opening the blinds for me, Marlette,” he asked of her—Marlette—but his gaze remained pinned on me, as though searching for something.
“Sure,” Marlette drawled, slowly walking to the little window high up on the wall facing us. “Less clean up that way.”
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
“Interesting. Most piss themselves, at the threat of that,” the guy drawled. “Yet she’s barely responding. Her heart rate hasn’t even increased.”
“Maybe she’s wearing a sun stone,” Marlette asked.
“She’s not,” he said, eyes narrowing on me once again. “I made sure to check.”
“What the fuck are you halfwits talking about,” I spat out, getting really bored of this game. “Is this some inside joke I’m not privy to? Like, am I seriously supposed to be scared about you opening the blinds? What’s behind them? Rats?”
He laughed, actually full on belly laughed. “I think this one’s lost her marbles.”
Marlette reached the window and slowly pulled on the little cord allowing the tiniest sliver of sunlight to stream into the cell and against my face.
It must have been a sunny day, the way even that little gleam of light bathed the cell in an amber glow, dust mites dancing in the shaft of light. And this time I laughed.
I figured the myths and whatnot humans told about vampires not being able to go out in the light had to have been planted, fabricated, because I’d encountered no problems walking in the daylight.
In fact, until this very moment I hadn’t even given it a second thought.
The sunlight felt warm against my cheeks and I bathed in the comfort of it.
But by the way these two were acting, I supposed I was wrong.
But that only led me to more questions. Why could I walk in the sun?
According to the reactions these two gave…
that shouldn’t have been possible without a sun stone.
“It’s not possible,” Marlette whispered, opening the blinds further as though trying to prove a point.
More light streamed in and I winced at the onslaught of it.
Sure, it blinded me, but that was because of the brightness of it, not because it hurt or burned.
Silence echoed through the room as though the very air had been stolen from our lungs.
And they just stared at me, their expressions unreadable.
The guy took a step back, all of the smugness on his face evaporated, and his face paled, etched in a look I couldn’t quite place. Fear? Worry? Something else? I really didn’t know.
“She can’t be here,” Marlette said at last. But he just stared at me, and when he didn’t respond, she repeated herself, this time divulging his name. “Davien, she can’t be here. You need to turn her in before this comes down on us.”
While I appreciated the change from their threats, I had more worrying questions rising to the front of my mind. Turn me in to whom? Why were they suddenly so fearful?
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Who’s they?”
Marlette scrunched her brows as she took me in again, then her eyes flew to Davien as he exited the cell, locking it behind him again. There were so many unspoken words there, I was sure of it.
“She stays here, if anyone so much as looks at her, they’ll answer to me,” Davien threatened, then proceeded to instruct Marlette to shut the blinds and destroy the file with my information. To my surprise, she did as he told her. Then they were both gone, and yet another door was locked.
Leaving me all alone.
Part of me wanted to beg them not to leave me here, the other part of me was terrified of them. Maybe I should tell them everything that had happened, maybe they could make sense of it.
Maybe they’d help me.
Or.
Maybe they’d kill me.
How the fuck was I going to get out of this.