Kira stopped walking. Somehow, despite being completely and utterly lost within the actual walls of the castle, she had stumbled onto Aldrich. There he was, with her imposter mother, sitting and sipping blood in a room Kira had never seen before.
Why would he have a spy-hole into his private room? Or maybe it was that woman’s room, which meant she didn’t know about Aldrich’s little set of hidden passageways. Interesting.
Kira pressed against the glass to peer as far into the room as possible. To the far left, just barely within view, was a bed. Her breath caught. A pale foot fell over the side, immobile. Traveling up the unmoving leg, Kira’s eyes found Miko’s face. She was expressionless, laying still with a wide open lids. Blood dripped from her neck, staining the satin sheets below her body. But she blinked and Kira realized she wasn’t dead, just too weak to move. Who would willingly let people do that to them, just to become a vampire? And Kira knew it was willing, because Tristan would have heard it if they were hurting her or forcing her to do anything. Something that would have made him question Aldrich, Kira knew it in her heart.
Unless they were sitting in a sound-proof room as well.
Looking away from the bed, Kira examined the walls. They weren’t made of glass like the tunnel, but Kira doubted Aldrich would be casually talking where Tristan could overhear him.
She flipped her attention to the two seats by the window where Aldrich and the woman sat. Heavy drapes kept the sunlight out, but the room was very well lit with candles. Kira wasn’t quite sure what Aldrich’s deal with electricity was, but it seemed strange for a vampire to willingly light fires all around himself. They couldn’t hurt him, but still, didn’t they remind Aldrich of the one thing that could kill him: conduits?
Not what she was here to think about, Kira thought and focused on Aldrich again. He was saying something, but she couldn’t quite read his lips behind the wine glass. Move it just a little bit, Kira silently urged, wishing she were the telekinetic one. But then he stopped, and it was the woman’s turn to speak. Her back was to Kira, so all Kira could rely on was Aldrich’s reaction, which luckily was a big one.
Above the glass, his eyes hardened. The normal ebony-blue was rapidly transforming into a glacial steel and he placed the goblet back on the table. He grabbed her fake-mothers hand, pressing his nails into her skin until blood sprouted, staining her pale flesh. His lips opened to talk and Kira concentrated on reading his words.
“I don’t care. Make her believe.”
A blonde head shook back and forth as the woman tried to reason with Aldrich, but after a moment, his hand slapped her face making her head whip around so far that Kira could see the tear stains on her cheek.
“We have been planning this for years and I will not let you ruin it. You are a three hundred year old vampire and she is a teenage girl. Figure it out!” He let her go and licked the blood from his fingertips.
The woman slid from her chair to kneel at his feet, placing her hands on his knee to beg for something—his forgiveness? Her life?
Aldrich eased back into his seat and ran his fingers over her cheek. His eyes lost their glow and returned to the umber Kira was used to. His expression softened.
“I’m sorry. You know how angry you make me sometimes.”
The woman nodded and sat up a little higher. He brought her hand to his lips. The blood lingering there left a mark on her skin, like a tattoo, as though he had branded her.
“When she gets back from visiting Lucas, we’ll know. She has one day, one day to come willingly or we’ll have no choice but to kill her. And if you do your job, neither one of you will have to die.”
He reached for his glass on the nightstand and took a sip of blood, staining his lips a deep red again. Over the brim of the glass, Kira met his eyes. For a moment, she thought he could see her standing there, watching him. But Kira blinked and the sensation was gone. She was safe, safe in the biggest gift Aldrich could have given her—a free way to spy on him.
Kira eased away from the glass, thinking about what she had just heard, when a moan broke through the absolute silence of the tunnel. Kira’s head snapped to the sound—was someone else in here with her?
Chapter Nine
Kira took one last look at Aldrich, who was sipping calmly and staring at his own reflection, before following the noise.
As the darkness deepened, Kira let the flames surrounding her palm grow, partially to see and partially to prepare herself for whatever was in there with her. She strained her ears, reaching out for a sound, but Kira couldn’t hear anything. Stepping slowly, carefully, Kira kept walking. No bend had broken the hallway, so there was nowhere to go but straight ahead. If the noise was real, it was definitely coming from this direction.
After a while, the path started sloping downwards. At first, the angle was subtle, almost impossible for Kira to notice, but the further she traveled, the steeper the walk became. And colder. Small goose bumps rose on her arms because despite the summer heat, the air nipped at her skin.
Okay, Kira thought, enough of this. She put more energy into her power, making the flames surge higher to illuminate the entire path. She couldn’t see anything in front of her but a hallway that slowly faded to black. Kira was about to turn around when she heard the sound again, a strained and muffled scream—of pain or frustration, Kira couldn’t say.
Tired of the slow approach, Kira started to sprint. Her feet pounded against the glass, thundering in the silence of the tunnel—only challenged by the crackle of her fire.
Finally, after two minutes at full speed, Kira saw something ahead: an open door. No wait, Kira stepped closer, there was no door, just an opening. Beyond it, there seemed to be an open chamber flickering with candlelight.
Kira slowed her pace again. As she neared the opening, her heart stopped.
Kira knew what this was.
It was Aldrich’s dungeon. New. Modern. Clean. But a dungeon nonetheless.
Through the opening, all Kira could see was one rail-thin body curled into a ball on the ground. Kira rushed into the room and the scene became even more gruesome. Five bodies, six glass cells, and not a single ounce of movement from anyone.
“Hello?” Kira asked, hoping someone would give a sign of life. The only reply she received was another moan, quieter this time, from a shape huddled in the corner of the cell on the far left.
Kira rushed over and placed her hand against the glass. A man leaned against the wall of his cell, naked except for a pair of tattered pants. He looked no older than thirty. His red hair was matted with sweat and run through with knots. It was long enough to frame his face and cover his shoulders. His skin was bloodied; bite wounds punctured his chest, his arms, his neck. A shudder ran through Kira.
He moved his eyes, slowly glancing up at her with all of the remaining strength left in his body. A jerk shook his limbs when he saw her face. He pushed his feet, trying to back away from her, but he was already at the furthest corner his square glass cage would allow. But Kira wasn’t paying attention to that—she was distracted by his eyes. They were green in the center, fanning out to an orangey red flaming hue she was familiar with.
“Are you a Punisher?” Kira asked, placing her other hand against the glass, anticipating his answer.
He nodded, eying her with fear. Her eyes, Kira remembered. They were blue. He must think she was a vampire. Kira searched the glass for a hole or a door, surely there needed to be an entrance somewhere. And then she found a crack in the glass, a small indent that must be the handle to a sliding door. Kira pulled, but the door wouldn’t budge. It was either too heavy or locked in some way she couldn’t detect. But there was a smaller sliding door along the floor, maybe for food. Kira crouched down on her knees, and slid her hand through the opening. She put her palm up and let a small flame hover over her fingers.
The man’s eyes widen slightly. He moved his own hand, but no fire appeared. He winced in pain, and Kira realized he must be too weak to channel his power. Somehow she ha
d to heal him.
“Can you move? Can you come closer?” Kira asked.
“No,” he replied, with a raspy voice that came out barely louder than a whisper.
“Stay calm,” Kira said and let her power grow brighter. Kira pushed her flames towards him, until the entire cell seemed on fire. When the first tendril touched his skin, Kira felt the blow in her own stomach. He was so weak, so close to death. She couldn’t give him food or water, but as Kira felt along his body with her fire, she realized the obvious problem. His blood was seriously depleted. Concentrating, Kira focused on replenishing his dried veins.
Her fingers tingled with heat as she channeled more power, happy that so far underground, her connection to the sun was still strong, still comforting. And after a few minutes, when the wounds on his chest had sealed without a scar, Kira had done everything she could, so she called her power back into her body. The flames retreated, sinking into her skin, and Kira looked at the stranger again.
He was still thin, still tired and hungry, but color flushed his cheeks and he had regained enough strength to come closer to her. He walked slowly and collapsed into a heap on the floor a few inches from her outstretched hand.
“Thank you,” he said and Kira felt the intensity of the words despite his meek and airy voice.
“I’m sorry I don’t have water or food,” Kira told him.
“Who… what are you?” He asked and his eyes found hers. They were slightly widened, as if straining to stay open. He was looking at her almost as though Kira were a vision, something he thought might disappeared if he blinked.
She crouched lower down so she could reach further into his cell and cover his hand with her own. It was dirty and still covered in dried blood, but it was solid. More importantly, he knew Kira was solid and not going anywhere.
“I’m a friend, a conduit like you.”
“But you, you healed me. And your eyes… they were glowing blue.”
Kira looked away.
“I’m,” Kira started but she wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m not your normal conduit.”
“For a moment, I thought you were an angel, an ancient warrior called back to save me. An original, from the time of God and Satan and the heavenly battles.”
Kira blinked… what?
“Uh, okay,” she said and patted his hand. Must be some sort of Punisher mumbo-jumbo. “What happened to you?”
“A year ago,” he said, breaking to cough against the scratch in his throat. “A year ago, I was captured. During a raid, I was hit with something. I blacked out and woke up in this cell, weakened with barely any blood in my body. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t call my power. I’ve been stuck here ever since.”
Kira nodded, absorbing the story. He had been down in this cell for an entire year. A year without the sun, without a human touch, without family, without hope.
“Look, I’m going to help everyone else and then I need to talk to you again. We need to figure out a way to get you all out of here.”
He nodded, still looked at her with an awestruck expression. Kira shook her head and stood up to walk to the next cell. A red headed woman was lying in this one, not moving with closed eyes. A coarse cotton gown covered her features. Kira reached out with her power and healed her as best she could.
Kira flexed her fingers. She had hardly used her powers for two weeks, and it felt good to stretch her fire, to finally let it out. Her skin was flushed with the warmth of her own flames, but it was a comforting burn and Kira sighed happily. Almost like an odd sense of déjà vu, Kira got this feeling like she was exactly where she was supposed to be, doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing.
She called her flames back, and the red headed woman, who seemed to be the same age as the man in the cell next door, blinked with confusion. Kira spoke to her softly, telling her the same things she had told the man before moving on to the next person.
This girl was blonde and looked slightly older, making Kira’s heart catch. But on closer examination of her profile, Kira saw that it was not her mother. Her nose was too pointed, her cheekbones too pronounced and her shape was just wrong. But instead of fighting another punch of sadness, Kira felt oddly relieved. She was happier her mother was dead. Better that than trapped in this hole, living a fate far worse than even nightmares could produce.
Kira healed the Protector and moved into the next cell, which was occupied by a brunette girl who screamed when she woke encircled by flames. Even before that, Kira could feel she was human. Her fire didn’t sink into this girl’s skin like it did with a conduit. Kira had to force her power into the wounds to seal them shut. The process wasn’t quite natural, but still easy enough to pull off.
In fact, it was a lot more difficult to calm her down than it was to heal her. She was bruised, broken-limbed, but not injured in the same way as the conduits. Her blood was almost all there. Kira realized this girl was probably a plaything to Aldrich, not food. Her dress spoke of the same conclusion. Unlike the dirty brown rags adorning the conduits, this girl was dressed in fine orange silk that cinched around her small waist. Her wrists were circled in gold cuffs—a cross between jewelry and jailing that made Kira cringe. She was Aldrich’s Barbie. He had dressed her up just to break her down, just like Tristan had told Kira.
The conduits had to be kept injured and weak so they couldn’t fight back. But this girl had been for fun. Kira swallowed the vomit in her throat back down. She had one more person to heal.
The last cell held another girl—clearly Aldrich had a preference for the female sex. She was stretched out on her side, facing the wall. Full, wavy black hair piled around her head and her grimy dress was too big, covering everything but her white and bony feet. She looked human, but her clothes were just as worn as those of the conduits.
Kira reached out with her fire, slipping it through the hole in the door of the cell in the same was as with the other prisoners. When the flames enshrouded the girl’s body, Kira tried to heal, but she was blocked. The fire wouldn’t sink through her skin, wouldn’t bend between the breaks in her cells, instead it tried to burn through it. Confused, Kira pushed stronger.
Suddenly, the girl’s head spun around and she hissed at Kira. Sharp teeth protruded from her lips and her eyes were white.
Kira stumbled back, falling on the ground with shock. Her flames followed, snapping back into her body like a broken rubber band, stinging her skin slightly.
As soon as her fire vanished from the cell, the girl slumped down lifeless again. Slowly, she sat up, leaning her tired head against the back of her cell. She opened her eyes, now gray-blue like the ocean during a storm—dirty somehow—and examined Kira.
“You shouldn’t have healed them,” she said. Her voice was weak, but still audible and much louder than those of everyone else in these cells. Kira realized that she had been acting partially, to silently observe Kira. Her skin was ashen and pale, sickly compared to the pristine pearl of every other vampire Kira had ever met. But she had strength, despite the fact that Kira couldn’t heal her.
“Why not?” Kira asked. She crossed her legs, trying to get comfortable. Who knew how long this vampire had been here? She had to have some information that might help Kira.
“Aldrich will know someone has been here,” the vampire said matter-of-factly.
Shoot, Kira thought. How had she not thought of that? But, Kira realized, she would have healed them regardless. She would not have been able to simply walk away from conduits and humans walking such a fine line between life and death.
“When will he be back?” Kira asked. She couldn’t fix the situation, but maybe she could avoid it.
The vampire shrugged. It was such a human gesture that Kira paused and took a second look at the girl. Her features seemed exotic, even without their natural coloring. Something about the arch of her eyes and fullness of her lips reminded Kira of a gypsy. But more so, something about her seemed human, in the same way that something about Tristan had always seemed human. Maybe
it was the spark in her eyes, the sense that she would fight for her survival. Regardless, Kira couldn’t fight the feeling that this girl wasn’t her enemy. That maybe she could even be an ally.
As if sensing the flip inside of Kira, the girl narrowed her eyes. “He hasn’t been here for a few weeks, not since he drained a few of those conduits over there for some party. But his servants come in daily to pass around a few meager scraps of food. Not like those duds would notice anything.” She paused, shifting her eyes to scan the faces of the other prisoners. “No, you might be okay. He usually waits for them to heal a little bit more before he comes back. But he’ll notice their scars are gone when he does.”
“I’m hoping he’ll be dead by then,” Kira said.
It was a slight risk to let this vampire in on her plan, but if she was trapped in one of Aldrich’s cages, Kira doubted the girl would tattle. If she felt included, she might be more willing to give up information. Like Kira expected, the vampire raised her eyebrows.
“Do tell,” she said. Her head slid forward slightly, an unconscious movement revealing her interest in Kira’s words.
“Tell me what happened to you first,” Kira said. “Why are you trapped down here? What did you do to him?”
The girl laughed. It was a shallow bitter sound.
“The question isn’t what I did to him, but what I didn’t do.” Kira waited for the girl to continue. After a few seconds, the girl sighed and relaxed back against the wall. “What do you know about vampires?”
“A good amount,” Kira said, keeping thoughts of Tristan from leaving her lips.
“So you know about our powers? Well, some of our powers?”
Kira nodded.
“I happen to have a very valuable one. I pull people’s memories into my own head. I can’t just go in at anytime and sift through someone’s mind. But if I’m touching them, I can draw the images out like a movie and then play them in someone else’s mind.”
Blaze (Midnight Fire Series) Page 11