Chapter Eighteen
The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the presence of thick iron bars in front of me. Each bar was almost an inch in diameter, and it refused to bend when I pressed against it. Slumping down to the floor, I gave up on trying to break the iron bars, and instead looked around my prison cell.
Pressed up against the far corner wall was a thin mattress just lying on the ground. An even thinner blanket covered it, and there was a stained pillow at one end. On the opposite wall was a metal bucket which, judging by the smell emanating from it, could only be intended for one purpose. I wrinkled my noise as the smell hit, and fought to keep from gagging.
This place was obviously a prison cell, and it was meant to hold me captive until Andrew could carry out his nefarious plans that for some reason involved me. I had no choice but to sit back and wait for him to decide it was time to clue me in. While I waited, I checked my body for harm, and came up with what felt like a sprained wrist, a swollen lump on my head, and a couple of cracked ribs. When I was satisfied that I wasn’t going to die anytime soon from my injuries, I leaned back and started to think.
I’m locked up in a dungeon cell with Andrew holding me captive, and I have no idea what he plans to do with me yet, but I can’t bring myself to be angry with myself. Yes, I chose to go with his people willingly, but I did it to spare Finn’s life, which makes it alright. Finn was willing to get beaten to death rather than leave me to be abducted, and I owed him for that. It doesn’t matter what happens to me now, as long as Finn recovers and survives.
I wonder what will happen to me though. Obviously Andrew plans to use my affinity for death to his advantage, but I don’t know how he’ll go about it. What are the odds of me getting out of here alive and in one piece? With no help coming and no possible way to escape this dungeon, I’m screwed, and the only way I’m getting out of here is probably in a body bag.
I rubbed my temples as my headache started to get worse. Each heartbeat sounded like a gunshot in my ears, and I winced with each pounding beat. Unfortunately, there was nothing to do but sit around in the dark and think and listen to the sound of water dripping to the floor, and the squeak of rodents as they scampered across the dingy floor.
I pulled my knees up to my chest, put my head down in my arms, and started to cry. I wasn’t sure what was worse, waiting for something to actually happen, or what would most likely happen when Andrew arrived. The waiting was making me nervous, jittery, and more and more terrified by the moment. I was sure of only one thing at this point: my future was up in the air. I might survive Andrew’s plans for me, and I might not. There was no telling until he explained what he wanted from me, and I would just have to toughen up and wait until I got the information I needed.
I took a deep, calming breath, and forced myself to put my head up. I wouldn’t let myself appear as a coward when Andrew finally came from me. Wiping away the tears that were starting to dry on my cheeks, I stretched my legs out, leaned back against the iron bars behind me, and just waited. I was ready to just resign myself to whatever fate had in store for me, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight. Andrew may have captured me, and I knew that my chances of surviving were slim, but I would make him work every step of the way.
A door opened somewhere above me and I instantly craned my head around, searching. Footsteps pounded down a nearby flight of stairs, echoing off the cellar walls, and I cringed as each one drew closer and closer to my cell. When Andrew appeared, I physically cringed away from him, scooting to the far side of the cell, as far away from him as I could possibly manage.
I told myself over and over to just be brave and look him in the eye, but when he cleared his throat, I couldn’t bring myself to lift my eyes to his. All I could do was cower against the far wall, curled up in a tight ball, and stare at his black boots that blended with his black jeans. When he began tapping the iron bars, a shiver ran down my spine, and I finally forced myself to look up at him.
“Now that I’ve got your attention, perhaps you would like to join me for a tour of my home?” The way he phrased it was obviously not meant to be a question. He expected me to follow meekly and obey his requests without complaining or fighting, and I was going to do it. The more I complied with him, the better my chances at surviving probably would be.
He took a keep from around his neck and twisted it in the lock. He slid the door open like a jail cell in a prison, and he swept his arms out in a grand gesture. “Come with me, my dear, and I will show you all that you stand to rule, by my side of course.”
He’d just revealed more about his plans to me in that one sentence than he had so far, and I tried to keep my face calm as I met his eyes. “Fine,” I said tightly. When I got slowly to my feet, my leg muscles cramped and screamed at me, begging me to sit down and relax them. As I limped to the open cell door, I noticed Andrew’s eyes zero in on my legs.
“Are you in pain?” he asked, sounding almost like he cared in the process.
I held my head higher and walked past him, studying my surroundings as I did.
The area outside the dungeon wasn’t in much better shape than the cell I’d just woken up in. The walls were covered with a thick layer of green, spongy moss, and the floor was coated in something slick. It might have been water or blood; the stones the floor was made of were too dark to tell. I walked behind Andrew, and noticed that the wooden stares were rotted and each plank groaned laboriously under my weight–which was considerably less than his–and I winced, expecting it to break.
Then I’d fall into darkness and never be heard from again.
Andrew opened the door that was tucked away at the top of the stairs, and I stepped into a brightly lit room that was empty of everything but the barest of furnishings. A man stood guard near the door to the cellar, and one look at his heavily muscular and massive body told me that he was probably a werewolf like Finn, and would be impossible to beat in a fight, even if I knew how to defend myself.
Andrew put his hand firmly on my lower back, and I tried not to flinch away from his touch. He pulled me closer to his side, and walked me across the room to another door that was already open, and I stopped in a large parlor room.
The center of the room was dominated by a massive brick fireplace, and scattered around it were several pieces of vintage furnishings. A refurbished table made of mahogany wood sat in the middle of the cluster of furniture, and an old-fashioned tea set was perched on the edge of it. A woman in a maid’s uniform stood off to one side, and I could see the edges of her purple wings sticking out from her back.
Andrew sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. “Sit with me, Veronica. I have a proposition to make, and I imagine you’re probably quite famished. Have some tea and biscuits with me.” I looked at him before slowly sitting on the edge of the couch, as far away from him as possible. He frowned, but didn’t ask me to move closer.
He just slid a cup of warm tea across the table, which I ignored. He sighed, almost sadly, and looked at me. “I’m not going to try and poison you, Veronica. I don’t have plans to drug you and abuse you. I’m going to take care of you.”
“You abducted me,” I said, still ignoring the tea and biscuits. My stomach growled angrily at me, begging me to fill it with something, anything, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat the food he had offered me. I couldn’t be sure if it was safe to consume, and I didn’t want to take the chance. “You had your goons kidnap me. You attacked my friends and allies, and you expect me to trust you enough to eat what you’ve given me? I just woke up in your dungeon, in a prison cell! Are you out of your fucking mind?”
He calmly waited for me to finish my angry outburst, and when I was done, he spoke. “No, I assure you I am perfectly sane, and I don’t expect you to trust me. However, if I can eat these biscuits”–he said, picking one up–“I think you probably can, too.” He bit down, chewed, and then swallowed.
I waited a minute to see if he would try and spit it up or if he
would fall to the floor in wild convulsions. When he didn’t, I fell on the biscuits like a rabid animal. They were dry and they crumbled in my hands as I bit into them, but I didn’t care. It felt like I hadn’t eaten in at least two days, maybe even longer, and right now the dry food tasted better than anything I’d ever had before because of it.
Andrew watched me scarf down the food with a smile on his face. Ignoring him, I drained the cup of tea in front of me in four large gulps. It was steaming hot and it scalded my tongue and throat on the way down, but it quickly warmed my body from the inside out, and I felt myself begin to relax. I set the cup back down on the plate with a clang, and then leaned back against the couch.
I was feeling much better now that I had something in my stomach and I was finally ready to listen to whatever psychotic plans he probably had for me. I didn’t feel quite as panicked as I had when I woke up, and now I figured that if he was planning to feed me and then calmly talk to me, he wasn’t planning on murdering me.
He folded his hands in his lap and looked directly into my eyes. “Veronica, I’ve told you that my future plans include you, and I think you deserve to know why I need you. And I do need you; without your help, my plans have nothing to stand on. Only you are powerful enough to accomplish my goals.”
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, suppressing a yawn. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and sighed. “What’s so special about me that you can’t use someone else for your n-nef-nefarious plans?” I asked, aware that my words sounded funny.
“You are the only necromancer to ever be brought back from the dead and continue to grow. That gives you a bond with death that is truly amazing, Veronica. It also makes you incredibly powerful compared to others of our kind. You’re the only one powerful enough to accomplish my goals with the chance of surviving. Anyone else would die before finishing.”
“Finishing what?” I asked, yawning this time. Everything started to get hazy, and I shook my head to clear it.
“I plan to use you to raise an army of fifty thousand zombies to help me in my acquisition of the world. All will bow before me, and none shall dare oppose me. Not with you by my side and an army in front of me. I will conquer the world, and I will finally be given the respect I deserve. I can rule this world like a king.”
What he was saying should have sent shivers down my spine, but I was too busy staring at the empty cup of tea on the mahogany table beside me. It wasn’t until the room started spinning that I realized I hadn’t seen him take a sip of the tea.
Oh, my god! What did he just slip me? Is it a drug or is it something much worse, like poison?
When I jumped to my feet, everything lurched violently to the side, and I lost my balance, collapsing to the floor in a dizzy heap. I glanced up at Andrew, who was smiling down at me with a sick, twisted grin. “What did you give me?” I croaked. My stomach rolled, and I curled up on myself, hugging my knees to my chest to keep everything in its place.
“Just something to knock you out long enough to give you a chance to relax and think about what I’ve told you. Don’t worry; the effects will wear off in a couple of days or so. You’ll be safe in your cell until then. Then, when you’re more calm, the two of us can talk about how you’re going to help in my plans.”
A nearly silent moan escaped my locked lips, as everything went instantly black and the world slipped away from me.
Dark Secrets (Dark Heritage #1) Page 26
