Page 19 of Sergi
“I thought you said there were now twenty-two cells to clean.”
Dallas gave me a long look. “The last prisoner is two corridors over.” When he seemed satisfied by whatever he saw in my eyes, most likely irritation combined with a general sadness that had crept over me, he waved for me to follow.
One more cell, then lunch. The bland food would at least restore my energy for a long afternoon in the labs.
I pushed the cart, which had grown heavy with the weight of the shifter’s waste, down the long hallway as I followed Dallas, his club out and ready for anything—or anyone. With each corridor we passed, I glanced both directions. No guards could be seen. All was quiet.
At the last intersection, Dallas turned to the right and led me past several empty cells, the wooden bars used to lock in a prisoner lay on the floor. With the turnover of shifters, it made it easier for the guards to know if there was a shifter inside without having to look, which meant opening the door. Always a security risk.
This hallway was darker than the others with only one lantern burning in front of the barred door. The sound of dripping water was a gentle tap on the stones. It could either be soothing or maddening, depending on one’s state of mind. I glanced behind me, knowing no one was there, but for some reason, I was creeped out.
Dallas lifted the bar, opened the door, and stepped inside. After a quick glance around, he backed out. “You don’t want to linger in this cell. There isn’t a bucket or tray. You only need to take out the trash.”
I stared at him for a moment, unsure why this cell was different and not liking it. I’d heard rumors of interrogation rooms where a vampire the size of a gorilla, who I’d once seen in the cafeteria, handled special cases.
Was this one of those cases?
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I moved inside. This cell was unlike the others. A dim lantern lit the interior, but it wasn’t bright enough to chase the shadows from the corners.
A workbench sat along the wall to my left. It was nothing more than a wooden table two feet wide and eight feet long. An old, stained leather cloth stretched across the top with a line of tools spread across it. More precisely, instruments of torture. I swallowed hard. Just when I didn’t think I could see any more horrors.
A mug sat on the end of the table, but I wasn’t sure if I should refill it since it wasn’t the normal plastic tumbler. I took two tentative steps and peered inside, then picked it up and sloshed the remains before pouring some on the ground. It ran clear. I brought the cup to my nose. No scent. It had to be water.
I took it back to the cart, emptied what was left, and refilled it. When I placed the mug on the table, I jumped at the light sound of movement.
I spun around.
How could I have missed him?
I took a step closer, barely able to see him in the dim light. A naked male was strapped to the wall by a wide metal band that crossed over his chest. His arms were spread wide, his wrists manacled to the wall. His legs were free, but his feet barely touched the ground.
His eyes were closed, but that didn’t mean he was sleeping. With the way his body hung against the metal bands, he didn’t appear awake. When I considered the instruments on theworkbench and the blood stains that covered his body, he most likely passed out.
I took another two steps and noticed a small puddle of blood on the floor.
That was weird.
I studied his body. He was well-muscled with thick arms and thighs. His ridged stomach was lean. He was a fighter, or maybe he was one of those males who spent all his free time in a gym.
The dried blood stains reflected several trails that ran from his chest, stomach, and sides.
But why weren’t there any wounds?
I blinked and took another step closer. My legs shook, and I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until my brain forced me to breathe deeply.
And then I caught the scent.
No. It couldn’t be.
Vampire.
The following day,I replaced the tumbler of water in the last of the twenty-one cells when a soul-wrenching scream echoed through the corridors. No one had to tell me where that scream had come from, and the thought sent shivers through me, knowing that was my last stop.
I gave the shifter a weak smile. It was obvious he’d heard the scream. Of course, he had, but instead of curling into himself, he nodded at me like the others had. In a single day, the shifters had been prepared for my visit, and while they remained guarded, I sensed the first kernel of change. The scent of hope. The thought depressed me. I was the last one to offer them hope.
I closed the cell door and replaced the bar.
I glanced down the hall but the guard who’d been there earlier was gone. Dallas wasn’t around either. He’d met me when I arrived on the third level with my guard and walked with me to the guard’s quarters, but I hadn’t seen him since. And rather than a different guard stationed at each of the main corridors, there was only one who checked the cells before allowing me to clean. Now that one had disappeared. It seemed I was considered harmless, and they’d lost interest. More the fools them.
