Page 60 of Blood Caged

Mia

Ilean against thecool wall of my cell, my fingers tracing the invisible runes I’ve etched there over the past weeks. Each mark represents a piece of information, a whispered secret, a fragment of hope. It’s been a delicate dance, this planning and gathering, right under the noses of our captors.

My mind drifts back to that first day in the garden when Sabine’s voice whispered in my head. The thrill of connection, of not being alone, still sends a shiver down my spine. Since then, we’ve developed a silent language of our own – meaningful glances, subtle gestures, and, when we’re lucky, the briefest of psychic touches.

I close my eyes, thinking back to how we all met. The three of us are all brought to the garden at the same time each day, and it didn’t take long for us to connect. I would have been satisfiedto simply work with Sabine, but we quickly realized that our combined power was a significant advantage.

I remember that first day Jemma joined our little group. Her fair hair caught the sunlight as she bent to pluck a flower, slipping a tiny scrap of paper beneath a loose paving stone. My heart raced as I retrieved it later, decoding her message about guard rotations and weak points in the security system.

After that, every interaction with Soren became a game of cat and mouse. I’d probe for information, carefully, oh so carefully, while maintaining the facade of a compliant prisoner. His kindness made it both easier and infinitely more difficult. There were moments when I almost forgot he was the enemy when his touch during the blood draws sent an unwelcome warmth through me.

But I couldn’t afford to lose focus. With each passing day, each scrap of intelligence shared between us witches, our plan took shape. We mapped out the facility in our minds, piecing together snippets of overheard conversations and observations.

Sabine’s talent for reading auras proved invaluable. She could sense the human guards’ moods, alerting us to times when security might be more lax. Jemma, with her gift for plant magic, began cultivating herbs in the garden – innocent-looking weeds that would become potent ingredients for spellwork.

And me? I poured every ounce of my magical strength into slowly, painstakingly weakening the wards that suppressed our powers. It was exhausting, maddening work, like trying to chip away at a mountain with a teaspoon. But gradually, I felt the bonds loosening, the tiniest spark of my true abilities flickering to life.

I sit cross-legged on my bed, eyes closed, focusing intently on the faint thread of magic I’ve managed to access. It’s not much, but it’s enough to send out the barest whisper of thought.

“Sabine… Jemma… Can you hear me?”

The response is weak, barely more than an impression, but it’s there. We’ve been practicing this for weeks, strengthening our connection bit by bit. It’s risky, but it’s our only way to coordinate.

I picture the facility’s layout in my mind, piecing together the mental map we’ve constructed. “Sabine, what did you sense about the east wing guards today?”

Her reply comes slowly, like trying to hear someone underwater.“Distracted…argument with a superior. Might be an opening.”

I nod to myself.“Good. Jemma, how are the herbs coming along?”

“Almost…ready,”comes the faint response.“I’ll leave each of your potions in the usual spot.”

My heart races with a mixture of fear and excitement. We’re so close. I take a deep breath, centering myself.

“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. We make our move tomorrow morning after the next blood draw. The vamps will be leaving for the daylight hours. And the humans will be expecting us to be weak. Jemma, your potions will boost our strength. Sabine, you’ll monitor the guards’ emotions, give us the signal when they’re at their most unfocused.”

I pause, considering the riskiest part of the plan.“I’ll try to temporarily disable the wards. It won’t be much, but it should give us enough of our power back to make a run for it.”

The silence that follows is heavy with unspoken fears and doubts. But then I feel it – a surge of determination from both of them.

“Tomorrow,”I project as strongly as I can.“Be ready.”

As the connection fades, I open my eyes, my body trembling with exhaustion. I’ve pushed my limited abilities to their breaking point. But there’s no time to rest. Every moment counts now.

I reach for the small notebook hidden beneath my mattress, jotting down the final details of our plan in a code we’ve developed. It’s almost time. Soon, we’ll either be free…or face consequences I don’t want to imagine.

Three sharp knocks on the door yank me back to reality. This is one of the moments I’ve been dreading.

I try to keep my breathing steady as Soren enters my room to take me for my blood draw. This is it. The last time. Tomorrow, everything changes.

“Ready?” he asks. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

As we walk to the medical bay, I take stock of every detail. The cool air on my skin, the soft padding of our footsteps, Soren’s familiar scent. It all feels surreal, knowing what’s coming.

In the sterile room, I settle into the chair, extending my arm automatically. Soren’s touch is careful as he prepares the needle. I watch his face, searching for any sign that he suspects something’s off. But his expression is as calm and attentive as ever.

“How are you feeling today?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine.

I swallow hard. “Fine,” I manage. “Just…tired, I guess.”

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