Page 4 of Captive Hybrid

The guard growls but retreats with quiet steps. A few minutes later, he returns, shoving something under a slight gap between the end of the bars and the hardpacked floor. He lights a candle in a bracket affixed to the wall behind him. For a moment, my heart leaps. The floor is earth! Maybe I could dig under the bars!

But I have a guard, someone watching me.

For the moment, I’m relieved to have nourishment. I snatch the bottle of water and the plastic bowl of soup and devour them both greedily. I don’t know when last I ate or drank.

After several minutes, I sit back, still hungry and thirsty, but quenched for now. In the light of the candle, I can breathe a little easier. It’s unnerving, seeing the vampire watching me, staring around at my prison, but at least I have my vision back.

I eye the guard. I only caught a glimpse of the one who’d pulled me up from the wreckage at Wolf Grove. This was not him. Hendren, Drusilla had called him.

‘Who are you?’

The vampire was mostly bathed in shadows. Only his clean-shaven head and brown eyes were visible, his dark skin smooth with youth. His hands are folded before him. His gaze flicks to me, then away, unanswering.

‘Please? I have no one else to talk to.’

The vampire bares his fangs at me, but he is nowhere near as frightening as Drusilla.

‘Where am I? Why am I here? Is my pack, the coven, okay?’

Calmly, the vampire sighs. ‘You talk a lot.’

‘I’ll talk less if you answer me,’ I offer sweetly. ‘Please?’

He meets my gaze. ‘I’m not supposed to talk to you.’ His eyes slide to the cut on my leg. His nostrils flare. ‘Sit at the back of the cell.’ His voice is hard, an order.

‘You could get me something to clean it up with. That tap has no water.’ I’ve already drained the bottle he gave me.

The vampire grumbles.

‘Look, it must bother you that I’m bleeding, why not help us both? Me scooching back won’t fix it.’ I don’t want to think too much about how I might smell to him. How he might be fighting back the urge to slip into my cell and—No. Not going there.

His shoulders sag, resigned. He marches away, past the candlelight.

I seize my chance. Using the plastic spoon from the soup, I start digging under the bars, to the right, not directly in front of where the guard will stand. I hope he doesn’t ask for it back. The floor is filled with sharp rocks. To do this by hand would be painful, my hands would become obviously bloodied.

After less time than I would have liked, he returns, and I’m grateful for having grown up around wolves who like to sneak up on witches. My ears prick; I can hear his footfalls on the steps just a moment before he comes into view. I resume my position, feigning innocence.

The vampire slides something under the bars again. A small plastic first aid kit and another bottle of water.

‘Thank you,’ I say, meaning it.

The vampire doesn’t even look at me as he resumes his post, dark eyes scanning my cell to make sure everything is in order. He quirks a dark brow sceptically.

Given what they plan to do with me, he probably thinks I should not be thanking him.

I stare down at the supplies. I thought I’d manipulated him into getting these for me, but he didn’t have to. He could have come in here and bitten me. I doubt Drusilla would have minded. She wants me alive, but she said nothing about unharmed.

I watch him through the bars. I’ve never known a vampire. Seen them, yes. Unwisely served them at the club a couple of times. But never really known one.

‘What’s your name?’ My voice is quiet, coaxing.

His dark eyes meet mine. Slowly, he takes a step closer to the bars, peering in. ‘Godric.’ His voice rumbles in the space between us. ‘Now, be silent, little hybrid. I am tired of your talk.’

With a frown, I glare daggers at him. ‘You abduct me, now you order me to be silent?’

‘I did not abduct you.’

‘You’re holding me prisoner.’ I launch to my feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in my shin, my still-aching head. I cling onto the bars, but they don’t budge. ‘I am tired of being a prisoner! Let me the hell out of here!’

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