Page 96 of Blood Moon
She raced to the cell with unspeakable speed. This time, it frightened me. I jumped away, pressing myself against the stone wall. From the window above, beams of moonlight highlighted her face, and she wrapped her long fingers around the bars, one by one.
She tilted her head to the side, her stare thin and grim. “You think this isjustabout the scent of your blood?” She snorted, nostrils flaring. “You’re not that special, dhampir.” And she spat after she said it, wet slime landing inches from my scarred toes.
I was unfamiliar with the termdhampir, unsure of the correlation to me.
She groaned as she shook the bars, dust sprinkling from the ceiling. “Get a grip, Mira. You are here for the sins of your mother.” She laughed very loudly, teasingly, like a witch, like a hyena. “You’re going to bleed tonight, and I will be in the front row with a smile on my face. Remember me,” she hissed, and then she was gone, really gone, and I hadn’t had the chance to ask her more questions.
To be drained of all my blood, to die in a place like this, for the sins of my mother. I slid to the ground, hands pressed to my chest. What could that mean? Had Rena been eradicating Blood Lycans? Is this what she was trying to protect me from? If I were here, in her place to die, it had to have been something beyond horrific.Beyondunforgiving. But if not for the scent of my blood, then why?
Pulled my knees to my chest, and the soreness set in. The budding ache was everywhere, splitting and stinging with each move. I was punctured limbs and swollen eyes, a tragedy. The agony I felt stretched through muscle, through tissue. Tonight, I was to die, and here I was, caged like a flightless bird, helpless.
I cried, and cried, and cried, sulking on the filthy cement, wishing for a better end. I’d wanted a life without this fire of suffering, and I’d tried,I’d triedwith all that I was to get to her, to build a happy life, conquer peace.
It was the sole thought of Bobby that made me weep harder. The sole thought that made me stand. He’d fight for me if he were here, and since he was not, I needed to find the resilience to keep going.Not like this,I told myself.You fight until every breath is gone.
Pivoting, I kicked at the bars, hoping they’d break, even though I knew they wouldn’t. The vibration of the iron reverberated into my soles, not bending for me. Out of reach, where the curve of the wall met the ceiling, was a small window, bedecked in vertical bars. Perhaps, if I could manage my way up, I could remove the bars, see if the window opened. It could be an escape.
I removed the oversized sweatpants Julian had given me and used them as a rope. After a few tries, one of the pant legs caught on the window bar, sweeping and dropping to the other side, just long enough.
With a few jumps, I retrieved the ankle of the leg and pulled it the rest of the way down. In this position, I was able to use both sides to scale the wall. At the window, I slipped my hand between the bars, pulled on the latch to unlock it.
A crick of air and dirt pushed through, and I coughed. However, even with the window unlocked, it refused to open. I bashed in the glass, knuckles creaking until they bled. A few punches later, and the pane fell outward, onto grass, opening into the forest.
My heart raced, and I yanked at the bars with all my might, only to arrive at the realization that they were welded to the frame of the window.
Before I could make another move, someone behind me cleared their throat. A man appeared. He unlocked the cell, and I jumped down. He was dressed in an all-black suit, shades covering his eyes. Dark hair brushed into a ponytail, a tattoo on his neck.
“Let’s go.” It was all he said, and I barely had enough time to put on my pants before he grabbed my arm and hauled me down the hallway.
CHAPTER48
I can confess in the silence now; fate made us ignorant.
Article VII, Lost Letters from Aadan the First
This place felt like the catacombs.
Long dark hallways met us with every turn. Ivory and yellowed bones were plastered between crooks in the wall. Small oil lamps lit the way. A rancid smell lingered in the cracks, sour and rotten. My stomach turned.
“Please,” I whispered to the man. He’d had his hand around my arm so tight, I knew a bruise threaded beneath his grasp. “Let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”
The man’s voice was set at a tone so low, I wondered if it caused him pain. He laughed, struck me at my side, and I stumbled forward. “Your kind? Promising? Not gonna happen, kid.”
We stopped at an arched wooden door. He placed a key in the handle, turned it, but knocked three times. When it opened, the girl who’d taunted me was there. A sneer on her petite face as she welcomed us in.
It was a bathing room. A porcelain tub sat in the center, already filled with clouds of steam rising above it. A hole in the floor, all the way on the other side of the room, cloaked in shadows. Linens and towels were folded on a steel counter. Melted wax and flickering candles adorned the room, generating light.
“She’s all yours.” He pushed me to the girl, and I stumbled. “Abba wants her ready in thirty minutes for the ritual.”
“Mmmh,” she said with a raised brow, holding my shirt with the tips of her nails. When he left, there was a turn and a click, the door locking. In a blink, silver bands appeared, clamping around my wrists and neck. “One wrong move, and you’ll be electrocuted,” she promised.
I swallowed, teeth chattering from the cold room.
“Remove your clothes, now,” she demanded, staring at me. Her eyes didn’t blink as she waited. “I guessed that bucket of water I poured on you just wouldn’t do.” She picked at a nail before folding her arms. Then she huffed, aggravated by my lack of urgency. “Take them off,” she snapped. “Get into the tub.”
I had no choice. I did as she said, dropping my ruined clothes to the floor before stepping into the porcelain tub. The water scorched my skin as it steamed around me, and I gritted my teeth, jaw locking as I sat.
“I am Thea,” she said, and she filled a pail with water to dump on my head. Momentarily, my vision went, and I spat out the searing liquid. “Not that it matters,” she continued. “You won’t know me for long.”
