Page 12 of Blood Caged

Heath gives a cocky nod. “Pleasure to meet you, Lord Daire. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I don’t bother hiding my disdain as I regard him coolly. “Have you now?”

A witch betraying his own kind. Why would he do such a thing?

The question burns in my mind, but I keep my expression neutral. Whatever his motivations, this Heath is a wild card – one I’ll need to watch carefully.

I turn my attention fully to the male. “So, Mr. Moonshadow, tell me. What exactly drives a witch to betray his own kind?”

Heath’s cocky demeanor falters for a moment, his eyes darting away before meeting mine again. “It’s not betrayal. It’s…progress. The old ways aren’t working anymore.”

“Progress?” I scoff. “And kidnapping your own people is your idea of moving forward?”

His jaw tightens. “You wouldn’t understand. Our community is stagnating, clinging to outdated traditions. We need change.”

“I see.” I leave the words hanging.

Heath’s composure cracks further. “It’s more complicated than you could possibly comprehend.”

I narrow my eyes at him, my disgust barely concealed. “Enlighten me then. What grand vision justifies this?”

Heath’s chin lifts defiantly. “I don’t expect you to understand my motivations, Lord Daire. This arrangement with Lord Marlowe will benefit both witches and vampires. What I’m doing is for our own good.”

My blood runs cold. “Marlowe?” I interrupt sharply. “Lucien Marlowe is involved in this? What does he have to do with it?”

The young witch’s eyes widen slightly, but then he quickly schools his features. “My dealings with Lucien are none of your business.”

Fury rises within me, but I keep my expression neutral. Lucien’s involvement changes everything. I’ve long suspected he was up to no good, but this…this is far worse than I imagined. How the fuck could Maxwell drag me into something like this? If word got back to the Assembly, my reputation would be shattered. And that’s if I was lucky and didn’t have to face some sort of sanction.

Grayson, sensing the tension, steps forward. “If we could return to the matter at hand, Lord Daire. Heath’s role is crucial. He’ll suppress the witch’s magic, allowing for a smooth extraction. Once that’s done, we’ll bring her back here.”

I clench my jaw, torn between my duty and my growing unease. “Show me to her cell,” I command, my voice tight.

As we walk, my mind races. Lucien’s scheming has always been a threat, but this level of organization, this blatant disregard for the fragile peace between our kinds…it’s beyond anything I’d anticipated. And yet, here I am, bound by Maxwell’s orders to oversee this very operation.

The weight of my conflicting loyalties presses down on me as we approach the cell. We stop at the door, and I wait as Grayson unlocks it using a biometric panel.

I step into the room, my eyes scanning every inch of the space. It’s sparse but not inhumane – a simple bed, a small table, and a bathroom area separated by a partition. The walls are a dull gray, reinforced with layers of both physical and mystical barriers. Runes have been inscribed in intricate patterns on the surface.

“Are these to suppress magic?” I ask.

Grayson nods, then gestures to a barely visible panel on the wall. “We also have these. State-of-the-art magical dampeners, sir. They create a magnetic field that interferes with the witch’s ability to channel her power. It’s adjustable, allowing us to fine-tune the level of suppression as needed.”

I run my hand along the wall, feeling the faint hum of energy beneath my fingertips. It’s impressive, I have to admit. And necessary, I remind myself. We can’t risk her using her powers to escape or harm anyone.

She’s evil. Remember that. A threat to our kind.

And the others? Are they evil, too?

I stop my train of thought and turn my attention back to Grayson. “And the physical security?” I ask, moving toward the door.

“Triple-reinforced steel, sir. Enchanted locks that only respond to authorized magical signatures. The hinges are onthe outside, of course, and there are no weak points in the structure.”

I nod, examining the door closely. It’s solid, impenetrable. Yet, as I look at it, I can’t help but imagine how it will feel for her, trapped behind this barrier.

“The bed,” I say, turning back to the room. “It looks…adequate.”

Grayson raises an eyebrow. “It serves its purpose, sir. We’re not running a hotel.”

---