27 | Silver
The cells haven’t changed a bit in the decade since I last saw them. Same windowless rooms. Same harsh fluorescent lighting that’s not even dimmed in the middle of the night. No way to tell what time of day it is, or how long I’ve been stuck inside.
Same leering asshole guards making comments that make me want to punch them in the teeth. Although, when I was a kid, they were more gleeful about how monstrous I was and how I was going to be put down like a dog. These days, they’re more sexual. Offering their pencil dicks for one last fuck before...
Before something.
I haven’t quite worked that part out yet. I don’t exactly know why I’m here. All I know is Simpson’s convinced he’s going to use me as his little pet, and he’s the one that ensured I was shoved into this cell.
I’m doubtful they’re gonna take me out of here in a body bag. Not this time. Instead, I’ll likely get dragged out as his little necromancer toy, or when he decides that he’s curbed his impulses for long enough and he wants to use me as his personal blood bank.
A shiver of pure horror goes through me.
Nope. Not thinking about that. If I think about all the reasons I’m here and what might happen next, I’m going to lose my damn mind and spiral into panic.
And that won’t help anyone.
Instead, I focus on daydreaming about the cell door opening and me blasting a fireball right in the guard’s faces. Burn their stupid eyebrows clean off their faces.
Hanna would approve.
I huddle further into the corner, wrapping the scratchy blanket around my knees. There’s not a lot in here. A small cot that crinkles when you sit on it thanks to the plastic sheeting, a toilet in the corner, but no sink.
The cell is barely big enough to fit the bed. It hits solid wall on three sides and I have to keep my eyes downcast so I don’t focus on how fucking trapped I feel right now.
At least last time, I was in a slightly bigger cell since it was one designed for multiple occupants.
At least, last time, I wasn’t alone in here.
I wasted at least an hour when they first tossed me in, feeling my way around for weaknesses, cracks in the tiling. Like I might be able to dig my way out with my bare fingers.
No such luck.
If Rook couldn’t find a way out when he was trapped in one of these cells for who knows how long, there’s no chance I’ll be able to.
There’s not even an air vent. No loose ceiling tiles either. The place is solid.
Which means the only way out is through the door.
If I look up, the fluorescent lights make my eyes sting and the walls close in on me. So I count the floor tiles. I work my way through my magic, cataloging what I can and can’t use. Seems like telepathy is out, so is coercion or I could have persuaded the guards to let me go free, or for them to go jump out a window or something.
Too bad.
I’ve tried talking to the guys to tell them exactly where I am, but it was like trying to communicate with a bunch of brick walls. The only person I got through to was Dante, and that was for the briefest of moments before they locked me up.
After I’ve finish counting, I close my eyes and focus on how I got here. So long as I don’t think too hard about where here is, I’m okay.
I wonder how long the judiciary has been in the vamps’ pockets. And how long the vamps and Archarcans have been working together. That has to be what’s happening here, or there’s no way I would have wound up in an official city cell. Surely Simpson would have just dragged me off to the basement in his gaudy mansion instead.
And this entire thing reeks of a trap. They lured me down to the riverside by trapping Ember, and then whisked me away to a cell so that I’m at their mercy whenever they need me. I’m betting Simpson’s been pulling more strings than we realized. Since the Solstice, at least. It would certainly explain why my mother acted like an alien the last time I saw her.
After a few hours, my ass goes numb. A few hours more and I try my best to bury my face in the thin pillow and block out the world. Time stretches endlessly, and I have to focus on keeping my breathing steady.
“You think she’ll be gagging for one last lay before they take her downstairs?” a guard says, loud enough for me to hear.
“Might wind up with your cock chopped to pieces. She looks like a biter.”
That causes me to snort. Too damn right I would be.
“Fuck, don’t say that. You just made my balls shrivel into my asshole.”
“I’m not sure they should be able to do that, you might want to get that looked at.”
I roll my eyes. They’re idiots, the lot of them.
Blocking them out, I focus on happier things. My thoughts instantly drift to Roscoe, and how I want to waste entire days tracing his tattoos. First, I’ll do it with my fingers, and then I’ll go over them once again with my tongue. My lips quirk up in a smile as I picture his expression as I spend hours teasing him.
Aaand now I’m getting wet. Fuck. Not something that’s ideal right now.
Think about something else, something less sexy.
Amber eyes flash in my mind’s eye. Which is not unsexy. Dante’s gaze is arresting, intriguing. It drew me to him, even when we first met and he was trying to kick me out of his office. Although... thinking back to our first encounters, he didn’t try all that hard to get rid of me, even though I’ve come to learn he’s the opposite of a people person. He helped me when he didn’t stand to gain anything.
My chest goes warm as I think about his and Z’s growing broship. Even though Zeph would never admit it, I’m pretty sure the two of them are more similar than they ever would have realized before I started forcing them to spend time together.
That sounds bad, like they’re my little lap dogs or something, which is not how things are at all.
The past month has been surprisingly nice. After spending years on my own, heading out to whatever shitty job I was hired for, it’s been good to have company. Especially when it’s the two of them, scowling at the books in front of them like they’re frustrated they won’t give up their secrets.
My two quiet softies.
My mind drifts to Rook and Hanna, and the way he’s grown increasingly protective over her recently. He’s always been our growly protector, carved from stone and unerringly loyal. But with Hanna, he takes it to a whole new level.
Although Luna will be pissed if the two of them get together, since she’s convinced Hanna’s going to end up marrying a prince or something. I don’t even think we have princes around here, so who the hell knows where she thinks Hanna’s going to find one from.
And Fabian. The way he looked so uncertain and... almost shy when he turned up at the riverside, like he wasn’t sure I’d want him there. He still doesn’t understand. I fell hard for him a while back and that hasn’t changed, even when he couldn’t return my feelings, or even remember who I am.
I’m in love with him. His distance or distraction hasn’t changed that. I don’t even feel mad about it. I get that he feels the need to fix and control things, and when things are spiraling out of control, he spirals right along with them.
I just wish he’d let us in. Spread the load—and not in a fun, dirty way.
My daydreaming works for a few hours. I should probably be spending the time planning our next move, where to go next once I get out of here.
But I can’t seem to get my mind to focus on any one thing. It flits from thought to thought, never landing on one for long. Hours have passed by this point. I don’t know how long, since they confiscated my phone and I don’t have a watch.
The minutes drag and the only way I can tell that it must be evening is the sandwich and bottle of water that’s thrust through the little metal hatch in the door. My mouth waters and I blink a few times.
I hear the guards outside greeting someone and then there’s the sound of boots stomping, growing quieter.
I guess that means the next shift has started.
I shove the food into my mouth and chew mechanically, swallowing mouthfuls of water as I go, since my mouth is so damn dry. Don’t want to eat it all up or drink all my water when I don’t know the next time I’ll get anything. It’s been a while since I had to stop eating before I was no longer hungry, even longer since I had to ration water.
My brain goes kind of fuzzy after that, and I can’t tell if it’s from fatigue or something else. I flop down onto the bed, suddenly drained of all energy.
It’s another couple of hours of lolling around in silence before I fall into a restless sleep. I’m pretty sure I only snatch a couple of hours before I wake up. A ghost pops up from out of nowhere, appearing right in front of my face and lying down beside me like we’re two best buds sharing a gal pal chat.
She’s lucky I’m still feeling the effects of whatever drug they must have fed me, or I’m pretty sure I would have screamed the place down.
“Fuck, what are you doing here?”
“You can see me,” she says.
I rub my eyes tiredly. “Yep.”
“You’re the one they’re talking about outside. Aren’t you? The one who can send people to the next place. You got power over us ghosts that way.”
I try to push my body to sit up but kind of flop back down while the ghost watches on, looking highly unimpressed. “I, uh, I haven’t tried it. I’m not sure what I can do. I have got necromancy magic, but that’s about as far as I’ve ever gotten.” I hesitate before risking asking, “Do you, uh, happen to know a way out of here?”
She snorts. “Do you think we’d be here if we knew a way out?”
Good point. Dammit.
“I heard you want information,” she says.
Right. Yes. Information.
This is good. Maybe she can take a message, tell my mages where I am if they don’t already know. Although, they won’t be able to see or hear her, so I’m not sure what good that would do.
“You got a busy schedule then? Too much on your plate to help little ol’ me and all the rest of us too? We’re just stuck here.”
Ugh, that’s what the snarky ghost said earlier. The same one that brought me down to the riverside,
That nagging guilt I’ve been carrying for over a month now hits even stronger than ever. Dammit. She’s right. I’ve not been trying hard enough to see what I can do for the ghosts of this city. They’ve been holding up their end of the bargain by feeding me what information they can, and I’ve done nothing on my side.
I haven’t tried seeing how far I can push my necromancy. Mostly because it scares the shit out of me, and using it on the zombies made me feel gross for days afterwards.
I’m here though, with nothing but time and a desperate need to distract myself.
“All right then,” I say. “Just warning you, I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to send you somewhere good, if I can send you anywhere at all.”
“You can practice before you get to me, then,” she says. “I’ll round up some of the less scrupulous assholes from around here, and you can give it a shot with them first.”
“All right.” I nod.
“And I’ll get a message outside the walls. I can’t get far, but there are a bunch of ghosts right outside the building. I’m guessing they’re here for you. I should be able to say something before I get dragged back inside.”
The ghost disappears and then shortly after; I find myself in a cell filled with grizzled and miserable ghosts.
Wiping my hands on my pants, I try to clear my groggy head and summon my necromancy magic. It’s one way to distract myself, at least.