Page 95 of The Girl in the Forest

“You’ve been out of it for a while. Noa—right?”

I nodded, but she wasn’t looking at me. She stared at the bluish light from the overhead light bulb as it flickered, and the single moth that darted too close to death.

“Your friend isn’t sleeping,” she said. “They caught her giving you those leaves and beat her. If that’s her brother across the way, he isn’t doing so good, either. But you and me—we’re the lucky ones, aren’t we? See…” She leaned forward and tightened both arms around her upraised knees. “We have value, so they don’t give us too much of that wolfbane shit. Just enough to be nauseous and annoyed as hell. Pretending keeps them off my back about it, though.”

“Were you ever at that house?”

“For a while. Then they got all agitated about something and moved me here.”

My nerves prickled. “Do you know what they want?”

“They want to turn me into some shit hybrid, but not until they’re sure I’m freak enough for it. I’m not sitting here waiting.”

Brin rocked to her hands and knees, crawled toward the iron bars, and sat back down again. Then she wrapped both hands around the bars where they met the paved floor. “I’ve been working on weakening these. Almost got it.”

The bars scraped against the stone as she rocked them back and forth.

“Can’t let them catch me doing it, though. That’d set off their freak meter for sure, and I’d have my ass dragged away and to wherever they plan to do it. Suck out all my blood and put their blood back inside. They’ll do it to you, too. It’s just a matter of time. Don’t suppose you could take these bars out from over there, could you?”

“Not without a plan.” Brin was far from the helpless girl I’d imagined rescuing, but her jadedness gave away a deeper vulnerability.

“How old are you?” I asked her.

“Sixteen.”

Something scurried through the straw, and without thinking, I zapped energy in that direction and fried a rat. The steaming carcass looked like dried leather while Brin laughed.

“Don’t overcook the food,” she mocked. “They told me people starve to death down here. That’s why I say that hole is better. Get it over with.”

“I know you don’t think about time, but have you monitored their movements?” She was smart enough to measure everything in a dungeon with no outside light.

“From the food rotations, I’d say you’ve been here three days.”

It seemed longer to me, but all my senses were disoriented, and I remembered the way time lost meaning when I’d been with the nymphs. With Effa and Caerwen.

The damaged runes sizzled with random static. Some had scabs. Others itched. I couldn’t connect my jumbled thoughts together into more than ideas lasting a few seconds before they slid away. Every time I looked at the mutilated black rune, I couldn’t breathe.

Brin had turned away. I was relieved. We were done with the talking, and I curled on the cold floor, missing Grayson’s heat. I imagined him lying next to me and felt empty because he wasn’t there. I couldn’t even hold his memory for long in my mind. Instead, I worried about things beyond my control—how angry Grayson would be with me. Or if he’d go full-on dread lord against the vampires. I worried about Mace, telling me how I’d screwed up in that empty house. Hadn’t sensed the danger.

I worried about Fallon, deceiving Anson for my sake. What it would cost her when he learned the truth.

I worried that she’d decided for the wrong reasons and would regret it. Anson Salas would not be forgiving. Grayson couldn’t keep our secret now that we’d disappeared into this black hell. He’d need Anson’s help to mount a rescue, but Anson would not offer it, not after betraying him the way we did. And thinking about betrayals—had Julien set the trap with his information? Or had someone betrayed him?

We were in High Citadel, the vampire’s stronghold. No one would come to save us, and maybe Grayson was right. I should burn everything down and not care, because compassion hadn’t gotten me anywhere.

I should break through the bars and do what I came here to do. Save Brin because I needed her help to read a book, not because she deserved rescuing. We could get to Levi, battle our way out of this dungeon. I’d syphon energy. Destroy anyone blocking us.

But if they shot bolts into Levi once, they’d do it again. Shoot into Laura. Me. And Brin. She didn’t seem to believe in or care for anyone. Wolves had betrayed her. But I couldn’t stop caring about her.

I remained silent when a vampire walked down the corridor, a female wearing black robes with her head draped in a red-lined cowl that obscured her face, reminding me of the Gemini Witches with their flawless faces covered by veils. A shudder sent goose bumps across my skin. But the vampire wasn’t a threat. She brought food, a thin soup. Brin drank hers, while I slid the bowl closer to Laura. Her eyes were puffy but open, and I helped her sit, then spooned the soup into her mouth.

“I’m sorry about the leaves,” I murmured. “What they did to you.”

“Good thing I have more,” she choked out. “Sewn into my… bra.”

“Can I help you heal?”

She gripped my hand, held my fingers against her ribs, and I surged a gentle heat. “Better?”

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