Page 11 of Dark Flame
She fights for a moment, struggling in her powerless way, before her body drops limp, her head against my chest. It’s then I really take her in, the deep colour of her hair sticking to my shirt and brushing against my arm, probably the silkiest thing I’ve felt in centuries. Her scent invades my nose, making something inside me move—which is impossible because everything inside me, most noticeably my black heart, is dead. Not the scent of her blood, buther.
Pushing it all aside, I reach down to lift her, noting how ridiculously light she is. I could break her with the gentlest touch. This witch needs her powers because if her life ever comes down to a fight, she’d lose.
I suppose, luckily for her, she’ll never need to fight again, with magick or elsewise. Unluckily for her, I’ll be the one she’ll wish she could fight.
Keeping her close to my chest, I turn and start the journey to her new life.
Towards her captivity.
Four
HARLOW
The painin my head dulls, slowly drawing me from sleep. Discomfort thumps front and centre in my forehead, and I groan, opening my eyes to pure darkness. My heart begins pounding a bit faster. I shift, confirming I’m not tied down, and I immediately breathe easier having control of my limbs. At least I have that going for me.
Unilluminated places end up having a sense of entrapment, and my claustrophobia is a bitch about it. With that fear out of the way, my mind’s able to focus on the rest, the immediate problem.
Like what happened and where I am.
I shift my hips, the ground hard beneath me. Certainly not my bed, warm and comfortable. I move my arms again, this time paying attention to my senses rather than not being tied down. Dirt, I think, and rocks. I lift my hands to my face, waiting for my eyes to begin making out shapes. After a minute of this, I give up since nothing seems to be changing. It’s not that concerning, considering it’s only a bit obscurer than my shadow friends, and those I’ve gotten used to.
All at once, memories flash through my mind. The vampire in my room. The one who spoke my name in theexactway I’ve been hearing for all these months.
Impossible.I’ve imagined the entire thing. The voice in my head…yeah, don’t have an answer for that one, but it can’t possibly be the same. If that’s the case, then vampires must have powers that my parents never mentioned. Unless they didn’t know either, in which case, who knows what else vampires have been hiding, or what other abilities my captor will likely use against me.
More plausible: My terrified, traumatized brain injected my kidnapper’s voice into being the replacement for my mental one. They’re two different things, but circumstance forced my mind to blend the two realities.
Yeah, that’s what I’m going with.
Returning to the last thing I remember: that vampire chased me, caught me—because why wouldn’t he have?—and then other vampires showed up. He fought them off but I didn’t bother sticking around to see the ending of that. Whoever won didn’t change the outcome they all wanted me for. He must have won, considering he caught up to me, this time caked in blood, like he just walked off a horror-movie set.
I don’t recall anything after that.
If only I had my magick still, then none of this would be an issue. Instead, I sit up and wait for my eyes to adjust to the impossibly dark room, for shapes to begin forming.
Minutes pass, and still nothing. I remain where I am, rocks digging into my thighs, rather than stand. My luck, the asshole stuck me on the edge of a cliff and with one wrong move, I’ll topple to my death.
Although death may end up being the better option than whatever he’s planning.
Over the years, many vampires have come for me—for the cure, anyway—but my parents always had so many charms on me, my blood was made to smell like a mortal’s, allowing me the chance to live a semi-normal life. It helps vampires can’t come out in the daytime either, so as long as I’m inside by sunset, I’m good. They’ve attacked the house, but none have managed to get through the barriers.
Until this one. The nameless vampire who beat me.
I scoff. What’s it matter, anyway? No matter the bloodsucker’s name, they’re all the same: rich, ancient, and cocky as fuck. He’s one of many whom I’ll burn to death the moment my powers return.
At this point, I’m still working on the how. If my magick wanted to cooperate, I’d like to think it would have last night when my life was literally in danger. Although, I suppose I’m still in danger. Maybe. I don’t really know what’s about to happen, but I do know having light would be nice so I can plan my escape accordingly.
Goddess, give me the fucking strength to defeat this vampire.
As though my prayer to Her is answered, a dull light flickers in the distance, casting a glow that barely reveals my surroundings. The dirt-covered and rock-decorated ground, the windowless stone wall at my back, and the thick metal poles across from me that lock me into a not very large space.
At all. Not large at all. Small, in fact.Toosmall. Mentally, I try to count the estimated size of this place, coming up with six-by-six feet or something close to that, and only about four feet above my head if I was standing.
Prison?
A cell that feels entirely too tiny. The concerns of where I am and why are gone for the immediate future, the panic slowly setting in given how close the walls are to one another…and how I’m stuck right in the middle.
Claustrophobia’s always been such an inconvenience, and freaking out about my cell’s size shouldn’t matter as much as the fact that I’minsideone. But it’s where my brain goes.
