Page 65 of Blood Caged

Beside me, Heath chuckles drily. “Look at you now. Not so high and mighty anymore, are we?”

Mia glares at him, her emerald eyes blazing fiercely despite her battered state. “Fuck you, Heath Moonshadow! You’re going to rot in hell for what you’ve been doing here!”

“You know what your problem is?” Heath says. “You’re weak. All of you. Clinging to your outdated traditions, your precious ‘natural order.’” He spits the words like a curse. “You had power, and you squandered it.”

The hatred is clear in his voice, and I find myself wondering what could have driven him to betray his own people so completely. There’s a story there, buried beneath layers of bitterness and rage.

“But me?” Heath’s chest puffs out with pride. “I saw the truth. I embraced real power. And now look at us.” He gestures between himself and the imprisoned witches. “Who’s on which side of these bars?”

Mia’s voice, though hoarse, cuts through the air like a whip. “You’re nothing but a traitor, Heath. A coward who sold out his own kind…and for what? A pat on the head from your vampire masters?”

“Enough bickering, children,” Lucien interjects. I stand back, watching as he approaches the cell bars. His eyes glitter with malice, a predator toying with cornered prey. The fucker is enjoying this.

I force my face into an impassive mask, acutely aware of both Heath and Lucien’s attention. One wrong move, one flicker of sympathy, and I could jeopardize everything.

“Now then,” Lucien begins, his voice as cold as a winter wind, “let’s discuss your little adventure, shall we?” He focuses on Mia, clearly identifying her as the ringleader. “How did you manage to orchestrate this impressive failure?”

Mia meets his gaze boldly, but I can see the slight tremor as she swallows. “Go to hell,” she spits. Her eyes flit to me, then back to Lucien.

Lucien’s laugh is humorless. “My dear, I’m already there. And now, so are you.” He turns to the witch with the injured arm. “Perhaps you’d like to enlighten us? I’m sure we could make your stay more…comfortable.”

The witch whimpers, shrinking back against the wall. Mia shifts, placing herself between Lucien and her companion. “Leave her alone,” she growls.

“Such bravery,” Lucien mocks. “Or is it stupidity? You seem to be under the mistaken impression that you have any power here.” He leans closer to the bars, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Let me assure you, witch, that your situation can become much, much worse.”

I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to intervene. Lucien’s cruelty is a blunt instrument, and I know it will only make the witches more resistant. But I can’t risk showing any disagreement, not with Heath watching my every move like a hawk. As much as I’ve hated being involved in this place, I’ve taken some consolation in knowing that I’ve been able to improve things for these people.

“I’ll ask one more time,” Lucien continues, his patience clearly wearing thin. “How did you bypass our security? Who helped you?”

The silence that follows is deafening. I can hear the rapid heartbeats of the witches, smell the fear rolling off them in waves. But still, they remain defiant, united in their silence.

Lucien straightens, fury etched across his face. “Very well,” he says, his tone promising retribution. “If you won’t speak now, perhaps a few days without food or water will loosen your tongues.”

Mia tosses her head. “That all you got, bloodsucker?” She snorts. “Go screw yourself.”

Lucien eyes her silently for a moment, then appears to make some sort of decision. “It seems to me that I’m not going to get through to you with a reasonable ultimatum.”

Reasonable ultimatum?

The bastard just threatened to starve them.

“Which means you’re useless to me,” he continues, then rubs his jaw. “Wait, let me rephrase that. Your blood is useful. Them?” He looks at the cowering witches beside Mia. “I can replace them in a day.”

“What are you getting at?” Mia’s defiance is starting to slip.

Lucien turns to me. “Get rid of them,” he says.

I blink in confusion. “What?”

“You heard me.” Lucien looks over at a guard nearby and jerks his head at the cell door. “Get them out of there.”

Mia’s mouth drops open. “No! You can’t!”

“I can, and I will.” Lucien’s voice is pure ice. “If you can’t be useful by pointing out the gaps in our security system, I’ll use your little friends to send a message to the others.”

“Please!” Mia shakes her head wildly, growing more frantic as the guard makes his way across the cell and unchains her companions.

“Get your stinking hands off me!” the fair-haired woman yells at him, struggling to get free of his grip. The dark-haired one, the one with the injured arm, puts up less of a fight but is no less defiant.

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