Page 43 of Flock This

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head then stepped back. “I’ll be back just before sunrise. Stay here and out of trouble, Grey.”

With that, he left, and I didn’t move a muscle. I should have gone back to my own room, should have set a clear boundary between Kelvin and myself, but I just couldn’t.

And for the first time, I understood how humans became thralls, how they could trade their freedom for a little bit of happiness, no matter how hollow and fleeting.

What harm could one day make, after all?

Chapter Twelve

Cower before me, puny door!

I chuckled to myself as I placed my hand on the door that blocked my way. Sure, I didn’t have a lot of skills, but the few I had could prove useful. After just a moment, the lock clicked open. Given it was an electronic one, a bit of smoke and a zapping sound said it probably wouldn’t work anymore.

Which was fine by me. I had a specific, strong hatred of locks in general.

I slipped through the door, peering around to ensure I didn’t get caught. General thralls weren’t allowed in the medical area, not unless the required treatment. I’d come here complaining about headaches, and the quick physical by a human doctor hadn’t turned up anything other than exhaustion and some vitamin deficiencies. They’d warned that Kelvin shouldn’t feed from me for a week other than quick strikes to ensure the introduction of venom, and given me a prescription for vitamins along with noting some dietary changes in my file. The doctor had also given me a candy bar like I was a child.

A candy bar I for sure took and pocketed.

I could almost picture Kelvin mocking me later over this, since they said they’d send him all the information. It felt like having a parent watching over me, and I didn’t care for it.

After getting my pills and a lecture about taking care of myself, I’d snuck off toward the isolation area instead of heading back to Kelvin or my room.

One of the things I’d noticed was that with the exception of the lobby, there was little security throughout the building. Doors had locks that opened with palm readers based on where thralls were approved for, but beyond that?

Nothing.

Then again, the place was filled with vampires. I doubted they worried much about people screwing around.

Guess they haven’t met me yet…

Beyond the door whose lock I’d broken, I found a long hallway, the lights turned down so low I struggled to see. Doors lined the hallway and signs sat outside each one. As I walked through, I leaned in close to read each one.

Rooms without writing were empty, and most of them were. I stopped in front of one room with a tag.

Francis Kelley, twenty-six-year-old female thrall, no master known, resistance to medication. Expected outcome—death within one month.

The words were typed out and lacked any feeling in the basic, blocky letters. They were talking about a human who had been infected by a vampire who refused to even remain around, one who abandoned the human, and now she was nothing but a few words on a page. She held no responsibility for this, yet she suffered for it.

I put my hand on the door and peered through the small glass window. The space inside was large, with a clear partition that separated the room into two sections. It explained why this door lacked a lock—because there was one inside. Past that clear wall sat a woman on a mattress on the floor. She had her legs crossed and she rocked forward and back, rubbing her arms.

No, not rubbing… It took a moment to realize she was dragging her nails against her own arms, leaving deep grooves in them. Red dripped down, staining the otherwise clean mattress.

I backed away, the sight unsettling me to my core. Whatever she’d been before, whoever she’d been, was gone. I could see it in her eyes, that her mind had broken from the stress of that bond, that she had no future, no life.

Nothing but that cell until she perished.

I rushed away from that door, wanting to erase the sight from my mind but knowing better than to think that possible.

I glanced at the signs as I went, looking for the names I recognized from the book. Finally, near the back, I found all three names on a single door—William’s thralls.

The room was set up similar to the others, but not exactly. It was larger and far more nicely decorated. Instead of a mattress on the floor, three actual beds were placed in the room, along with desks and dressers. In fact, it looked more like a studio apartment than a cell.

I opened the door and entered the small space before the clear barrier. Two of the people were in the beds and didn’t move when I entered, but the third, a man, sat at a desk with a book open in front of him. His hands shook so hard, he had the book resting against the desk rather than simply held in his hands. He had to be Roger.

He turned his head to look at me. “You don’t have food.”

I looked down at my hands as if I were surprised to find I didn’t have any. “Nope, sorry.”

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