by Cece Rose
Hannah?
I feel my face scrunch up in confusion. Hannah? Really?
Solas inches aside, allowing me to see the man standing across from us. His eyes are as black as Solas’, but his hair is a few shades lighter, a deep, lush brown. Solas clears his throat. Shit.
“Hi, I’m Hannah,” I lie, forcing a smile onto my face. Great. Now I’m exchanging pleasantries with demons. At least this one is fully dressed. I guess it’s just my demon that has a penchant for nudity.
“Your witch is a terrible liar,” the demon chides Solas, before directing his attention back to me. “I am Caim, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Not-Hannah.” He holds out his hand as if to shake mine, but Solas knocks it away.
“Don’t touch.” He gives Caim a firm look.
“Why not?” Caim questions, sounding positively smug.
“Because, luckily for my bitchy-witch, I need her alive. For now, anyway,” Solas quips.
“Well, if that’s all it is, then you won’t mind when I mention meeting this lovely witch of yours to D?” Caim taunts, raising an eyebrow at Solas.
“It is all this is, but you won’t mention it. After all, you wouldn’t want me to let slip what I know of your indiscretion.”
A look of contempt is shared between the two demons. I can’t help but feel like I’m watching a tennis match as my head flicks between the two of them as they speak.
“If it’s nothing, why hide it?” Caim demands.
“That is none of your business.” The demon closer to me tenses. I’ve never seen Solas so unnerved. Even when stuck as a cat he remained more composed than this. Why is he acting so weird?
“I think, if you want this to remain hidden, you’ll reconsider telling me more about it.”
“I should have shouted from the rooftops when I found out what you’d done, and yet I’ve haven’t spoken of it to a soul,” Solas counters, a smooth façade overtaking his demeanour. It’s apparent he’s switching up his tactics.
“Don’t play hero now in front of the witch. You kept your mouth shut because it suited you, because it gave you something to use against me.”
I snort.
As if I would ever think of Solas as a hero.
“I never claimed to be anything. I simply stated facts,” he snaps back.
“Um, could you two maybe have this conversation somewhere else? You’re being a bit loud, and I’d rather you not attract the attention of the hungry vampires,” I suggest, cutting off Caim’s reply.
“You’re scared of vampires, but not of demons?” the demon asks me.
“I’m terrified of both, but right now, Solas says he isn’t going to kill me. The vampires, however, haven’t made any such promises,” I answer honestly. Though, I don’t mention the fact that Solas doesn’t scare me nearly as much as he should. I guess it’s hard to be terrified of someone after they were effectively stuck as your pet. My eyes move to Solas. I wonder how he felt about that? His head turns, as if he can feel my eyes on him. I glance away in a hurry.
“Well, as nice as this is, I have much more important things to attend to. Why don’t you run off and spend the night with Annabelle?” Solas goads the other demon. I feel the tension in the air, so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“You swore not to speak her name in front of anyone.”
“And I didn’t. Hannah here isn’t anyone. Just some dumb witch who in all likelihood will be dead before the month is up. For now, however, I need her to do something for me. So you keep your distance, or I will speak your wretched human’s name in front of everyone. Do you understand me?” Solas demands menacingly.
I look up and see Caim eying me in contemplation before turning to Solas and giving him a sharp nod. He blinks out of existence, portalling himself away with ease.
“Hannah?” I mutter, narrowing my eyes on Solas.
“Could have been worse.” He grins. “I could have called you Gertrude.”
“Are you really planning on killing me before the end of the month?” I ask, unable to stop the question.
“I have no plans to kill you, little witch,” he answers, and I begin to let out a breath of relief when he cuts me off by continuing. “I can’t say that I won’t, though. It’s just not written down in my calendar. We’ll just have to see how useful you prove yourself to be, won’t we?” He arches an eyebrow at me.
I remind myself to breathe, and of the fact I need Solas to get out of here. We made a deal. He’s not going to kill me today at least.
Why did Silvia go and put ideas of the demon not wanting to kill me into my head?
“The vampire’s name was Elias, right?” I double-check, bringing my focus back to the task at hand.
A brilliant, but twisted smile takes over the demon’s face as he inclines his head in response. “You might just survive me yet, Kayla.”
I can’t help but think that the real question is how long will I continue to do so.
Twelve
Blood Answers
For a whole five seconds after Solas leaves, I ponder how in the hell I’m going to find a damn specific vampire in this place, when the obvious answer presents itself to me. I’ve already seen one witch-vampire hybrid that fit the bill, haven’t I? The man who appeared in charge when I came in looked a perfect match to Solas’ description.
The fact I would rather not seek him out to make sure is a moot point, considering my other available options for escape from this place remain non-existent. My limited knowledge of magic means that even though I still possess my powers in here, I harbour serious doubts in my ability to breakout myself without assistance.
Against better judgement, I trust Solas to aid in my escape more than I would trust any of the inmates in here to assist me. Plus, I don't want to cause a prison-wide break out. I just want to get myself out because I'm innocent. I can't let anyone else in here escape. They're all dangerous, hardened criminals.
Speaking of dangerous, I ponder what possible information Solas could want from this Elias guy. Whatever it is, it can’t be anything good. Is it my fault if he does something bad with whatever information he gets from him? Ugh. I shake my head, wishing I could make my guilty conscience go away.
Instead of focusing on my guilt, I let my thoughts drift to the demon Solas is blackmailing, Caim. He is blackmailing him, that much is clear, but with what? A human called Annabelle? What does she have to do with anything?
Nothing with Solas is simple, so I doubt this is either. Whatever he's holding above this other's demon's head must be trouble, and if I was smart, I'd forget Annabelle's name. I'd forget Caim’s name too.
Determined to move away from my current thoughts and concentrate on the task at hand, I rummage through my backpack in search of the map. Once I find it, I grab the water bottle and a meal bar too, noticing the hunger pains twisting in my stomach for the first time.
How long has it been since I've eaten? As I devour the bar in a matter of seconds, I decide however long it was, it was too long. After drinking a third of my water, I force myself not to chug the entire thing, shoving the bottle back into the bag and out of sight.
Fed and watered, the tiniest bit of relief seeps in. I unfold the map and examine the layout of the cave system that we're trapped within. Who the hell came up with the idea of shoving a bunch of the worst supernatural criminals into a cave and just letting them have at it?
This place is a terrible idea. It just means that the tougher criminals, the vampires, use the other criminals as food and entertainment. It seems less of a punishment for the vampires, and more of a way of confining the damage they do just to this place. The magic users, however, suffer the worst end of the deal. Instead of mere imprisonment, they must endure what amounts to torture at the hands of their fanged cohabitants.
Reading the map proves to be difficult with only the glow from the crystals on the cave ceiling to see by. It also doesn't help that I’m clueless as to where I am right now in relation to the map. I bite my lip. Why did I take
so many twists and turns?
I suppose I could always just wander around until I run into a vampire. I'm pretty sure they would be happy to take me to their leader. I snort. I've always wanted an opportunity to say that, but somehow, these aren’t the circumstances I pictured. Not that I can really think of any other scenario that would make sense for this.
When no other feasible plans come to mind, I shove the map back into the bag and zip it shut. After dragging myself to my feet and brushing myself off, I venture off in search of trouble.
With my luck, how hard could trouble be to find?
Thirteen
The Escape
Apparently, trouble is very challenging to find. After several hours of searching, the only souls I've come across are either in animal form or go to great lengths to avoid me. Clearly the word had gotten out about my abilities, and it seems nobody else fancies getting burnt.
I did, however, find an unoccupied bathroom. After taking the opportunity to use the facilities and clean up, I find myself feeling a little more like me. With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I head back out to continue searching for trouble.
Maybe I could taunt a vampire into coming closer?
A high-pitched screech escapes my lips when a tap on my back startles me. The sound would leave me embarrassed in any other situation. I jump forward and whirl around to confront whatever snuck up on me, my magic ready to strike if necessary. I blink and will my heart to slow as I take in the vampire standing in front of me. He seems calm, making no move to attack, nor does he appear to breathe. So, he’s not a hybrid.
He wears his brown hair swept back into a messy ponytail, and no emotion shines through his empty, grey eyes. His fangs are retracted, so I relax the slightest bit, hoping I can assume he’s not here to eat me.
“Finally,” I mutter, letting loose a long breath, though I keep my eyes locked on the vampire, just in case he does decides to lunge.
“Finally?” he inquires, his brow raised.
“I've been trying to find someone to talk to for the last few hours,” I admit.
“Talk to? Oh. They're hiding because they think you want to flame them up,” he replies, confusion creasing his forehead.
“So, you're talking to me because?” I challenge, scepticism marring my tone. If everyone is avoiding me because they think I suffer from a bad case of pyromania, he’s got to be crazy or up to something in order to approach me.
“I hoped I could convince you not to do that, to me at least.” He smiles, but it's forced, rehearsed even.
“Why?” I cross my arms in defiance I wait for his answer.
“Because like you, my master wishes to talk. He requests your presence and sent me to fetch you,” he explains in a droning tone.
“Why does he want to speak to me?” I press.
“I do not know.” Alarm flashes in his dead eyes though, and I know that's a lie. But I do want to talk to the master, right? He must mean the blond hybrid, as I’m certain he is the boss in here. And since he’s my prime suspect for the identity of Elias, I’d have to go along with this.
“Fine. Take me to your leader,” I mutter, while suppressing a manic grin from the glee of actually getting to say that.
“Follow me.” He moves with a swift turn and walks away, not waiting to see if I follow. Not wanting to lose him in the maze of caves, I rush after him, throwing caution to the wind. Not that there is any breeze down here.
He leads me past several sections I'm sure I crossed through earlier, but I could easily be mistaken, considering how damned similar everything looks down here. After trudging along behind this vampire, we enter a tighter, more narrow section of caves. My body becomes tight with tension and I go on high alert, staying vigilant. The idea of being trapped in such close quarters with the vampire grates my nerves.
I stay a few steps back as we walk, wanting to give myself a chance for reaction at least. However, he pays little attention to me, and I soon find us stepping out into a large, cavernous section of the underground prison.
We're not alone, which I expected, but I am surprised by whom I’m brought before. It’s not the blond man as I assumed that holds the title ‘master’, but the dark-haired man with the scar.
“What coven are you from?” he calls as I'm led further into the space.
“Why does that matter?” I shrug, unwilling to give these people any information about me.
“Because it does. How did you manage to get in here with your magic intact and unblocked?” he demands. There’s a fierce look in his eyes that I can’t decipher, though I wonder.
“It was an accident, a mistake they made. Some Magitech device misidentified me as a shifter called Gina, and so they didn’t think to lock magic, considering shifters don't possess it,” I explain, hoping that because it’s nothing of my doing, it will help redirect his apparent ire over the situation. I just want to find Elias, summon Solas, and then get my butt home. Every second I spend in this hellhole is a second too long.
“An accident? What are you going to say next, that you're not even meant to be here?” he asks in an incredulous tone. I stay silent in answer, holding his gaze steadily. “You've got to be fucking kidding me,” he exclaims, a deep laugh escaping him. “No wonder I didn't fucking recognise you; you're a white witch, aren't you? We don't get too many of those down here, a few rebellious ones from time to time, but you don't look like they do.”
“What do you mean I don't look like they do?” My hands clench at my sides.
He trails a languid gaze over me, as if inspecting me will better help formulate his response. “You're not white-witchy enough.”
“That makes zero sense.” I can feel the frown on my face.
“It makes perfect sense. The white witches that crack, they are the ones that try too hard to be perfect. The kind of witches that spend their early years never stepping so much as a toe out of line, but then one day, temptation knocks, and because they've never had to deal with it before, they crash and fall further and harder than you'd believe. But you, you look like the kind of witch that could feel at home on either side of the line. Someone that's been brought up by a moderate sort of family.
“Those exist in black covens too, you know? They're the kind of witches that use black magic, but not ever the kind that involves hurting others. And there are more of them than you, a self-righteous white coven bitch, would ever expect.” He leans against a boulder, tapping his fingers against the rock before adding, “I myself am the falling kind.”
“You were born into a white coven?” I gape at him. The only other hybrid I know of that was born into a white coven is Kier, but he didn't have a choice in turning. He also didn't have a choice in joining the black coven either. Temptation had nothing to do with his fall, and everything to do with his father’s actions.
“At twenty-one I joined a black coven that my boyfriend was a part of, and four years later, I made the decision to transition into a vampire. My family were all horrified, and they outright disowned me. My boyfriend... he was a little unhinged, and dare I even say, insane? He killed them both when they rejected me. To this day, I’m not sure what bothered them the most, the fact that I joined a black coven, the whole being a vampire thing, or that I was gay.” He sighs, shaking his head in dismay at the memories.
“Well, as interesting as that story was, I don't understand why you are telling it to me.” I lick my suddenly dry lips. When people try to manipulate you, they disclose things that tend to evoke sympathy.
But what is he trying to manipulate me to do?
“Because you still have your powers and can get me out of here. Besides, if your innocence is genuine, as you claim, I doubt you want to help a terrible monster of a criminal escape, now do you?” he answers, raising a thick, dark eyebrow at me in question.
“So, what, you’re telling me you were framed?” I snort with derision and roll my eyes. Now it’s my turn to doubt his innocence.
“Not quite. You see, when I f
ound out what he did, I was furious. Yes, my parents were terrible to me, but they were my parents. I confronted him, demanding that he turn himself in. He laughed at first, until he realised how serious I was. He attacked me, forever scarring my face while screaming of my betrayal and ingratitude as he did so.” He laughs, dark and humourless. “He attacked, and I, well, I defended myself. I killed him during our struggle. I’m not sure if it was purposeful on my part, as my memories of that night are hazy. I got charged for the murders of my parents, as well as his. I'm guilty of murder, true, but only the murder of a murderer. This place has the ability to turn even the most innocent into killers, and I want out of this snake pit, before I do something much, much worse than what got me imprisoned here in the first place.”
The second he's done speaking, a slow clap begins from somewhere behind me. The jarring sound echoes in the cavernous space. I spin around to find the source of the clapping, seeing the blond vampire hybrid I was looking for standing at the entrance to the large cavern.
Once assured my attention is on him, he stops clapping and throws a grin over my shoulder towards the dark-haired man. “Well done, Markus. What a wonderful tale you’ve woven, complete with loss and woe. You did, however, forget the part where you killed two of the officers who came after you. I'm sure—what's your name, love?” he asks.
“Hannah,” I lie. Hopefully better than how I'd lied to Caim.
“I'm sure Hannah would prefer to know the full story,” he finishes, flashing me a fanged smile that makes me cringe. Just the sight of fangs makes me want to vomit now.
“Elias?” I venture, ignoring his words as I watch him closely for a visible response.
“You know me already? My reputation must precede me.” He chuckles, stepping closer. I'd move back, but that would only put me closer to the other vampire. There's no good option here. It’s then I notice that the vampire who led me here has vanished. I wonder if he scurried away to find somewhere to hide when he heard Elias coming. I wish I could.