Page 8 of Captive Hybrid

Chapter Four

Zenna

Resting comfortably with a head wound, my shin aching, and a vampire watching over me isn’t really possible. I toss and turn on the cot, which hurts, wayward springs jutting into my back, some parts sagging so thin the metal frame digs into me.

After what feels like hours, Godric finally sighs. ‘What is your problem? Don’t witches sleep?’ His tone isn’t harsh, just annoyed.

I take a shuddering breath. ‘My head hurts.’

‘I thought you slept that off.’

‘Whatever concussion I had, I guess, but it’s still pounding. Don’t vampires get headaches?’

In the dim light of the burning candle behind him, the otherwise stoic guy gives a slight smile. ‘Nothing a drink wouldn’t fix.’

My stomach turns. ‘That’s disgusting.’

Godric gives a half shrug. ‘To some.’ He nods to the half-empty second water bottle. ‘Drink that.’

I down the rest of the water, which only reminds me that I need to pee. Which I’ve been avoiding, because, well, I have company. I already checked the first aid kit. Which is basically a plastic box of band aids. No painkillers in there. I roll over and glare at him through the bars. ‘How long will you keep me prisoner? Until you get thirsty?’

At that, the smirk on his lips slides away. ‘You are not for drinking. Not for me, anyway.’

‘Well, I guess if I can’t sleep, at least I can talk to you. So, how old are you?’

Godric purses his lips. ‘I will be right back.’

As soon as his feet are up the stairs, I take the opportunity to relieve myself, wishing I could have a shower. Surely if I was to be here for days, they would let me wash, right? I glare through the bars as I return to the bed.

These are vampires, Zenna, I remind myself. This prison is different from the kid-gloved version at Wolf Grove. The thought of the pack and the coven make my heart ache. I’m unlikely to see any of them ever again. Even if Mordecai, by chance, did want to come and get me, he would be risking his own life, and likely the lives of everyone in his pack for the girl he rejected.

No. If I’m going to get out of here, I will have to do it myself. I glare at the ground. I can’t feel the presence of iron, but I doubt Godric would bother lying. I start digging again in a corner with my hands, the rough dirt and rocks biting into my fingers. I get about ten centimetres down when I cry out.

‘Told you.’ Godric has resumed his position silently.

Jeez. I didn’t hear him return.

He chucks something through the bars. A small, silver package. ‘Try that. Give us both some peace and quiet.’

I glare at the painkillers as he rolls another bottle of water into my cage. ‘Will I get a shower at some point?’

Godric pulls a paperback from the inside pocket of his jacket and starts reading. Rude. He could give me a book. ‘If Drusilla decides it. Until then, be quiet.’

I pick up the silver, sealed packet. If they wanted to drug me, they’ve had plenty of opportunity. If they wanted me dead, the same. Silently, I stare up at Godric. This can’t be it.

‘The murders, the man who attacked me, who was that? Why do those things?’

Godric gives a menacing, low growl. ‘Will you never shut up?’

‘What’s in that for me?’

He sighs. ‘It started as revenge. Sure, destroy the descendants of those who betrayed the Origins. They were all down for that as they first rose from the dead. Now, bigger plans are taking shape.’

I take a sip of water with the pills. ‘War, you said. Between who?’ My voice is quiet, unassuming. If I am going to get out of here—and the how on that is still very blurry—then I need to learn as much as I can. I’m in spitting distance of one of the Origins. Of someone who nearly took out my pack and coven. Goddess, I don’t know if they’re all alive. Jana and Jaken, too.

Godric’s cool gaze meets mine, determined not to fill in all the blanks for me. ‘Let’s keep this civil, shall we? I’m much calmer company than others who might be assigned here. Don’t pester me.’

I lower my gaze to humour him. ‘When will you be here until?’

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