by SARA FREITES
Three days later, I sat alone at the kitchen table. It was late Sunday night. Dinner had sat in front of me for an hour. I’d asked Eden to wait to make dinner, but it hadn’t made any difference. Even this late, I wasn’t hungry.
I spotted the stove clock. Midnight. I stirred my food around the plate with my fork, all the while thinking about the prisoner. The only opportunity I’d get to slip into the prison again would be during a hunt, and the longer I had to wait, the more excited I became. To me, the prisoner was a stray cat who'd wandered onto my porch. I felt obligated to feed the poor, starving thing. I admit, having a little extra company was nice, too…even if it wasn’t pleasant. Just being able to talk to someone new made me feel content. Despite that he was rude, insensitive and literally made my skin crawl, I still somehow felt drawn to him.
But I had to keep my intentions straight. I couldn’t feel sorry for him or bask in his presence just because he showed me a little attention. I wasn’t going down there to make friends with him or take care of him. After all, he had about as much interest in me as a crocodile has in a buzzing fly. Nevertheless, I decided my next few visits would be crucial. I had to be sure I could trust him before I just let him out of his cell. I'd also continued reading Latresma's spell book over the days but hadn't found anything I could use because of the limited ingredients at the Sanctum.
“Most of us will be gone for a few hours. Thade wants us to scout the suburbs for havidens overnight,” Eden informed me when she entered the kitchen. “You still haven’t even touched your dinner. What’s the deal?”
The urge was there, but I couldn’t tell her what I had planned. Deep down, I hoped she would’ve helped me with my escape, but I couldn’t risk her telling Thade.
“Eden!” Thade called from the other room. “Are you ready to go?”
“We’ll be back,” Eden promised me with a warm smile. “That plate better be clear by then.”
As soon as the large group left the greystone, I used Latresma’s spell again to visit cell 3a, a glass of blood in hand. The prisoner sat on the opposite side of the cell this time. I could see his face ever so slightly better through the bars now. From what I could see, I guessed he was in his early to mid-twenties or at least appeared to be. Really, not being human, there was no telling how old he really was. As I approached, it was easy to tell he was shocked to see me.
No warning. The man in a cell to my right ran to the bars. His sudden movement alarmed me. He moved for me, his eyes wide with rage. He gasped for air and hissed as drool and tears ran down his gaunt face. His boney hands snatched at me through the bars. I felt his fingers rake my right arm. I yelped and jumped away from him. My shoulder knocked some of the low hanging lightbulbs, and I nearly spilled the glass of blood. The crazy man’s face distorted with his mouth gaping wide open.
“Get away from that guy!” the other prisoner, the one I came for, warned as he stood up in his cell and motioned for me to hurry. “He fell into a blood-rage this morning. If he gets a hold of you—”
The rabid haviden huffed and moved away from the bars.
A blood-rage—Eden described them once before as the trance-like state starving havidens fall into, eating anything that happens into their path. I wondered how long it would be before the man of cell 3a fell into one. I hoped the blood I brought him would keep it from happening.
I ran to cell 3a. Its prisoner’s radiant eyes locked onto the glass of blood in my hand. His face softened as I greeted him. I passed the glass through the bars.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice somehow alluring.
My face felt hot and tingly.
“Is that your twisted way of saying ‘thank you’?” I asked and slightly smiled.
I stepped back, careful not to get too close to the cell behind me. The man sat on the ground as before. I watched him savor every drop of blood. While settling down on the cold concrete next to him, I thought of things to say. I also hoped he’d be considerably more civil now that he’d fed.
“So, how are you?” I asked.
“How do you think? How would you be?” he asked under his breath, then went back to drinking.
I suppressed a swelling sigh and balled my fists. “I’d be pretty pissed. I’m sorry you’re stuck down here,” I answered as friendly as possible, my forced friendliness nearly causing me to choke on my words. “At least you’re not starving anymore.”
“Yeah, sorta,” he said.
“Why did they lock you up here?”
“I don’t know. I was just passing through town, minding my own business. I tried to tell your leader that.”
“He’s not my leader,” I corrected him. “And you can’t tell Thade anything, anyway. He doesn’t listen. Where are you from?”
“Not here.”
I grit my teeth. “What brought you to Chicago?” I tried again.
“Like I said, passing through, looking for a place to rest a few hours.”
“Well, I guess you found one,” I muttered.
He glared at me through the bars. “Why did you come here? You’re not one of those weirdo vampire fanatics, are you?” he asked and went back to the blood.
“No,” I said flatly. “Never was. Never will be. And I didn’t come here on my own free will. I was brought here just like you. Are you ever going to tell me your name?”
He exhaled, then set the glass beside the one I left a few nights earlier. He crossed his arms, bowed his head and closed his eyes all in one motion. I could feel my blood pressure rising with every passing second he didn’t answer.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.
“Nothing once you leave.”
I didn’t say a word for a beat, repulsed by his response. “You’re a jackass,” I growled, stood and stormed out, all the while hissing the invisibility spell.
The next two visits went about the same for us. I brought him a glass of blood when the vampires left for their hunt, tried getting him to talk, he made some rude remark, I endured it by trying to make conversation, he shot me down in some offensive manner and I stormed out again. I knew if I wanted to get this guy to help me, my pride couldn’t be an obstacle anymore. I had to push it aside and let it be trampled. It was frustrating, but I constantly reminded myself to be patient, that I needed to be sure he was trustworthy. But after that last visit, I impatiently decided I trusted him enough to escape with him. I promised myself the next time I walked out of that prison, he would be walking out with me…even if I had to drag him.
It was another Monday night. Counting this day, I’d suffered through thirty-one days of living among the vampires. The first day of spring had come and gone, but for me, it didn’t matter what season it was. I’d never get to see it, get to feel the warm sun beating down on my skin.
There I waited, sarcastically waving goodbye over the staircase railing in my nighties. It was 2:30 AM. The vampires were leaving a little later for their hunt than usual. I’d stayed up eagerly waiting for them to leave. As the first hunting shift exited the Sanctum, I’d hoped it would be the last I’d see of them. Eden would be the only one I’d miss.
When I started for the kitchen to grab a glass of blood for the man in cell 3a, I came upon the collection of cardboard boxes in the entryway. Eden planned on using them to pack a few things up on the first floor and move them downstairs. She said it would help make more room on the first floor for us. I’d already stubbed my toe on one in passing, and I wished she’d just move the boxes somewhere else for now.
Walking by, I gently kicked one aside. Harper rounded the kitchen corner. I didn’t have time to dodge him. His elbow bent out, swiped around and bumped against my chest. He didn’t use much force. He didn’t have to. I fell flat on my back. I scooted against the boxes as he moved by. He grumbled a few choice words and walked around me like I was in his way. I could have burned a hole in his back glaring at him as he continued out the back door.
Just brush it off like you always do, I told myself as tears r
ose in my eyes.
I grabbed a glass of blood and went on my way. Before I could see him, I heard his chains rattle in his cell. And there, the prisoner waited at the bars. I tried not to make eye contact with him as I handed him the glass. I could feel his eyes on me while he sat on the floor and drank from the delicate glass. I sat down against the bars wordlessly while he stared curiously after me.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked in his low voice.
I took a breath, trying to hold back an overflow of tears.
“Normally, I can’t get you quiet, but today you’ve got nothing to say?” he pressed.
“Bad day.” My voice cracked.
“Are you crying?” he asked, holding back a laugh.
I caught fire on the inside. I couldn’t take it tonight. Far too focused on my frustration with Harper, I got up.
“Hey, where are you going?” he questioned.
I made my way toward the exit and readied my mirror shard for the invisibility incantation.
“Come back!” he called.
I could hear him run to the bars. I stopped in place, surprised to hear him call for me.
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” he explained himself. “You just caught me off guard. I’ve never seen a human cry before. It was a little weird.”
“What?” I whirled back in disbelief. “You’re a little weird,” I snarled and rolled my eyes. I wiped a stray tear away before returning.
“Why are you so mean?” I ask abrasively, waiting in front of the bars with my arms crossed.
“I’m not—” he began. Taking a breath, he gazed down. His eyes met mine again as if to start over. “I’m not mean,” he said in a gentler voice.
“Yes, you are,” I argued. “Unbearably.”
“If you came down here to cry in my face and not explain what’s going on—” he warned.
“What do you think is going on?” I cut him off in an outburst. “I told you I was kidnapped by these people! I don’t want to be here. I just want to go home.”
Tears rose in my eyes again. I wiped them away. The man stood still as if for the first time seeing me. He studied the four empty glasses from my previous visits, then the nearly empty one in his hand.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” he said. “If you promise to stop crying, I’ll tell you.”
“I’m not crying anymore,” I stubbornly pointed out.
“If you let me out of here, I’ll take you home.”
My eyes widened. I had to let his words sink in before responding. “What?” I asked, awestruck. “Are you serious?”
“Autumn.”
It was the first time he’d used my name. Hell, I’d half expected him to have forgotten it.
“I want to get out of here as badly as you do,” he went on. “And don’t look at me like that. I’m not doing this for you.”
“I don’t care who you’re doing it for, as long as you get me the hell out of here. I actually came down here tonight to let you out and convince you to take me home,” I admitted.
“Good. Then, we’re both on the same page,” he concluded.
“We are,” I agreed. “We just can’t get caught or Thade will throw me in one of these cells.”
“Mm,” he huffed and licked his fangs. “Maybe he’ll throw you in here with me.”
“You’re disgusting. In your dreams.”
“I could use a human soul right now.”
“Well, you can’t have mine. So, get over it.”
He laughed quietly. “Look. We won’t get caught. You’ve got nothing to worry about unless he knows where you live. Then, you’re screwed.”
Like an unexpected storm, a cloud of uncertainty cast over me. Disappointment poured from it like frigid rain. I couldn’t believe I’d missed this. If Thade knew where I lived, it would be the first place he’d check once he noticed I was missing. And just like that, my plan fell to pieces.
“What do we do if he knows where I live?" I asked with concern.
“What will we do? You mean, what will you do?” he replied.
“See? This is what I’m talking about. I’ve done nothing except keep you from dying, but when I ask for your help, you—”
“Hey!” he cut me off. “It’s not my fault it wasn’t a solid idea. It’s not like I sat around planning this for days.”
My skin grew hot. My mind let lose. If only he’d known that’s exactly what I’d done. Only I hadn’t thought it all the way through. I’d been too busy worrying about the act of escaping, but nothing past that point.
“Can you help me think of another idea? Please?” I begged.
He remained silent long enough for my patience to run out.
“Half-breed,” I mumbled.
“What the hell did you just say?” he snapped. “Look, you’ll just have to take a chance. Alright? But I will take you home as long you get me out of here. If you want, I can find somewhere for you to stay for a few days first. You might not even have to wait that long. Your house would be the very first place they’d check once they get back from their hunt tonight, but they won’t find you because you’ll be somewhere else. After a few days, I’ll dump you off at your house. But you’re on your own after that. Deal?”
“Yes! Pinky-swear?” I accidentally blurted before stifling myself.
He tilted his head. “What did you call me?” he asked.
I gawked at him. “Wow. They seriously don’t let you out of here, do they?” I asked in awe.
He shot me a look of disapproval. And that’s when I realized I had him right where I wanted him. I could probably tell him anything and he’d believe it—or at least, I hoped.
“You better stop calling me names before I change my mind about this,” he cautioned.
“It’s not a name. It’s a pact,” I explained.
I slipped my hand between the bars and extending my little finger. The last time I pinky-swore with someone, I was in elementary school. But if this guy was as immature as he acted, it would be a perfect fit.
“Oh. Some kind of human ritual or something?” he asked loudly.
“Just come here.” I impatiently waved him over.
He hesitated before coming closer. I unexpectedly broke into a sweat.
Please, don’t bite me, I chanted in my head.
“Okay, now what?” he asked, standing before me.
“Give me your hand,” I instructed.
He lifted his arms. The heavy-looking handcuffs scrapped together. His fingers brushed against mine. I wrapped my little finger around his, holding him there for a fraction of a second, then quickly jerked away. I didn’t like the way he eyed my arm.
“Don’t break the promise you made,” I began.
“Or what?” he challenged me.
“Or you’ll die in two days.”
“I’ll what?” he shouted. He backed away and yanked his hand from the bars as if I’d hit him. “That’s sick! What are you, some kind of witch?”
“No,” I murmured in total disbelief.
“Latresma was a witch.”
“No, she wasn’t. She was a caster,” I corrected him blandly.
“Same thing. Why didn’t you tell me about this ‘dying in two days’ crap before we did this?” His voice pitched uncomfortably loud.
“Hey!” the person in the cell next to us complained. “Shut up! People are trying to starve to death in peace down here.”
I rolled my eyes and we lowered our voices. “Well, if you keep your promise, you won’t have to worry about it, now will you?” I asked with the most attitude I’ve ever had with someone I didn’t know.
“You tricked me,” he growled through his fangs.
“I’m about to let you out of here, so does that even matter anymore?” I smiled slyly back at him.
He didn’t reply at first, and in that short time of silence, I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing.
“The keys are over there, witch,” he said, nodding to his left.
Following his gesture, I
noticed a tiny silver key hanging from a small wall-hook between his and grumpy guy’s cell. I had to jump to reach it.
“Please, don’t eat me when I open this,” I pleaded, half-joking and paused at his cell door.
He scowled at me. “Not interested,” he muttered through his fangs. “You smell like a vampire.”
“Too good to eat vampires?” I asked, taunting him.
“Just not my taste,” he replied.
I unlocked his prison cell. “Then, what was that whole thing about ‘Thade throwing me in with you’?”
“I was just trying to get under your skin.”
“You don’t even have to try.”
The barred door swung open and clacked against the wall. I went inside, key in hand. Stepping into the cage of a wild animal would probably compare to the way I felt at that moment. I even refrained from making any sudden movements.
“Aren’t you strong enough to break those?” I asked, nodding at the handcuffs binding his wrists. My eyes trailed the chains connecting the cuffs to the cell’s back wall.
“No. I haven’t fed properly. Remember?” he explained. “My strength comes and goes in spurts right now. I just haven’t had the fortune of having a big spurt yet.”
“Is there a key for the cuffs, too?” I wondered aloud.
“I don’t know. Try that.” He nodded at the key in my hand. I took hold of his hands and pulled so the cuffs’ keyhole faced up.
“You’re going to tell me your name before I unlock these,” I ordered.
“It’s Blake. Now, please, get these things off me.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Blake.” I jammed the key into the keyhole and tried to turn it.
“Nope,” I confirmed and let him go.
Blake dropped his hands, his shoulders slumped. “This sucks,” he groaned and went on cursing. He walked a circle in his cell until he spun back, his ebony hair sliding over his jawline as he did so. “Wait! Hey! Why don’t you try using one of those spells Latresma was so famous for?”