Page 16 of Blood Caged

And then I see it.

My eyes narrow. There, nestled in a shadowy corner near the ceiling, is a small, blinking red light. Modern. Electronic.

A camera.

My heart races as the implications sink in. This isn’t just a prison; it’s an observation room. Someone is watching my every move, studying me like a lab rat in a cage.

Anger flares hot in my chest, momentarily drowning out the fear. I glare directly at the camera, channeling all my fury into that gaze.

“I see you,” I snarl, my voice low and dangerous. “And when I get out of here – and I will get out – you’ll regret ever laying eyes on me.”

The red light blinks impassively, but I swear I can feel a shift in the air. Whoever’s on the other end of that feed knows I’ve spotted their little spy device.

Good. Let them squirm.

I turn away from the camera, my mind racing. The presence of modern technology changes things. It means my captors aren’t some ancient, magically-isolated cult. They have access to the outside world, to current resources. That could work in my favor…or make escape even more difficult.

I close my eyes, trying to piece together the fragments of memory that flit through my mind like frightened birds. The abduction…it’s there, just out of reach. I remember flashes – the acrid scent of fear, a cold hand clamping over my mouth. Vampires. Their pale faces etched with cruel determination.

And Heath.

The bitter taste of betrayal makes my lip curl. He’s responsible on some level. But why?

Something else nags at me, more pressing than the details of my capture. My magic. Its absence feels like a gaping wound, a vital part of myself ripped away. This isn’t just about keeping me powerless – it’s deliberate, calculated.

“They didn’t just take me. They took my magic.”

But how?

My mind races, theories forming and dissolving rapid-fire. Vampires have always coveted witch blood, but this feels different. More targeted. Personal, even.

Is it about my family? The Blackwoods have always been powerful, our bloodline stretching back centuries. But if that were the case, why me specifically? Why not Kara, with her raw talent, or Rowan, despite her struggles?

Maybe it’s not about power at all. Could it be knowledge they’re after? Some secret only I possess? I wrack my brain, trying to recall anything unusual I might have learned recently. Nothing stands out.

Or perhaps… What if I’m bait? A lure to draw out the rest of my family?

I shake my head, frustrated. Each theory feels plausible, yet none quite fit. There’s a piece missing, a crucial detail I can’t see.

How the hell did they take my magic?

It had to have been Heath. It’s the only way. But I can’t think of any ways a witch can sap the power of another.

Unless he’s using the dark arts. Gooseflesh ripples over my skin.

Come on, Mia. You just used blood magic yourself.

But I was desperate… Desperate to get out.

I pace the small confines of my cell, my mind racing through potential escape scenarios. The camera’s presence complicates things, but it might also be an opportunity.

I consider the possibility of faking illness or injury. It might draw someone in, give me a chance to overpower them or at least get a look at what’s beyond that door.

Perhaps I could—

A sudden scraping sound from the direction of the door jolts me from my thoughts. I pivot to face it, my heart pounding as I stare at the heavy iron barrier.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever – or whoever – might be on the other side of that door.

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