Page 15 of Mated Exile

I'll kill her as soon as I've gotten out of here. Then, when I return home, I'll box Kieran around the ears a few times. After last night, I suddenly understand better why Finn was always so acerbic about him, and Lance so full of bone-weary disappointment. Ifthesecreatures are the first one he turns to when life gets tough, that's a sign the boy I once loved is now gone.

Though a little, secret part of me still whispers that there must be a good reason for it, and a way to lead him out of the darkness, if only he would wake up and realize there's a way out.

"I see you two have gotten acquainted." Demetri stands just outside our cell, well away from the bars. Judging by the distance, he's figured out how far he has to stand to prevent getting clawed or bitten. "Hopefully you haven't gottentooacquainted. The last thing we want is a litter of mutts. Although wouldn't that be interesting, Helene?"

"Stop being weird," the blonde snaps back, her eyes fixed on me, studying me from head to toe. "I want to know if you're right about this. The quorum isn't going to be happy if I send word ahead and it turns out you're wrong."

Ambrosia scowls in her direction, and I sense rivalry between the two women, just as Bastian told me. "I already tasted her, and I know that I'm right."

Marcellus says, "Feel free to drink from her as well, Helene. I had a sip or two while she was out. Heady stuff."

I snarl instinctively, lifting my lip. Marcellus steps back warily at the sound; beside me, I hear a low growl, this one from Bastian. It comforts me that he has the strength still to snarl and growl at them, even after all this time, especially given how much they must have done to squash his spirit. There's a strong wolf in there still, I know it.

"I think I'll refrain from getting too close to the rabid things while they're awake," Helene says, looking down at us imperiously. I feel the urge to brush dirt from my clothes and barely stop myself. "What I'm looking for, Demetri, isn'ttaste.I want to know if she's really the one that they want. You know what they'll do to me if I try to drag the wrong specimen before them."

"The arena fight was the best we can do," Demetri grouses. "I don't know what else you expect. She clearly doesn't have the right powers."

"Are we sure? Because if we feed her to them, and it turns out we were wrong..."

I don't understand what they're talking about. Demetri offers, "We could do another fight. Maybe she'll show us the right abilities if given another chance. Especially now that she knows the alternative isdeath."

"I have another, simpler solution to testing her, one that doesn't involve another gruesome display of useless violence."

The blonde vampire pulls a small flask and little crystal goblet from her purse. Unscrewing the lid, she pours a strange, glowing blue liquid into the goblet and holds it up to catch the dim light filtering into the cell.

"Give me a piece of her and I'll test the stuff myself. Then we'll know if she's made of the right stuffbeforewe go to the trouble of serving her up, alive and ready for the feast."

I swallow, anger building in my stomach, and glance at Bastian. He looks worried for me. Those words make me feel sick:serving her up, feast, piece of her.The vampires reallydowant to feed me to their elders, and I have no idea why.

"Marcellus," Demetri says imperiously, "go into the cell and grab a piece of the werewolf."

"And get my fingers bitten off? No thanks!"

Unable to keep my mouth shut, I snap out, "None of you will be taking a piece of me."

They all look at me with indulgent amusement, like they've just watched a monkey play chess. I feel like a circus freak of some sort, and I want nothing more than to claw their eyes out. Something I plan on doing the second they get too close to the cage.

Clearly sensing this, Demetri grabs for a small white bag at his hip, and opens the top. My stomach drops. It's no doubt full of the same paralytic powder they used to get me here. The instant I inhale, I'll be out of it, and who knows how much of me will have been taken for thispiecewhen I wake up. Vampires may grow back limbs, but werewolves don't.

"I would rather you not put her out of it," Helene says, a frown on her mouth. "That would be the third time in as many hours, wouldn't it? We'll be at a disadvantage if we have to drug her a fourth time. It builds up in the system and creates a tolerance."

Marcellus grumbles. "How else am I to get a piece of her fingers or toes if she's not out of it?"

"You're not taking my fingers or my toes!" I glare them down, even as I back warily away from the iron bars. "I'll sever every limb from your body if you try."

Demetri sigh. "See, Helene? The powder is the only way to tame these beasts."

"There may be another option." Bastian clears his throat and speaks up. "Will a bit of her hair do? It's technically a piece. And that way no one has to get hurt."

Demetri eyes Helene. She nods sharply. "Hair will be fine."

"Then I'll give you some of hers." Ignoring my furious glare, Bastian says, "After all, if she really is such a prize, you'll want to save her for your quorum. Otherwise they might think you've indulged in a little for yourself."

Helene gives him a haughty look. "We wouldn't eat her," she says, and for a brief, shining moment, I'm overwhelmingly relieved. But she follows it up with, "Only the Old Ones consume flesh and bones. For us, consuming her would be a waste, when allweneed is her blood. We'll save the rest for the Old Ones. The hair will do for now, though."

Bastian approaches me, and I whirl on him, angry words bubbling in my throat. He gives me a frown and shakes his head. Leaning in close, he murmurs softly in my ear, "Just do what they want for now. Trust me, it's for the best."

His breath warms my skin, bringing a flush to my neck. Ignoring the impatient sighs of the vampires, I point out, "For all we know, the instant they get a bit of my hair and confirm I am whatever it is they're looking for, they'll cart me off to their Old Ones and feed me to them on a platter."

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