by R. L. Perez
Inside the cell was a vampire. His eyes were all-black, and his fangs dripped with blood. A huge gash ran from his eye socket to his jawline, oozing blood down his shirt.
“Bloody hell,” Riker choked.
Horror numbed my bones, chilling me worse than the cold air. I hurried to the next cell and found a werewolf tied up with silver thread. The next one held a woman whose eyes were closed, but her shoulders rose and fell with labored breaths. Then, another vampire, some troll-like creature, and a shapeshifter, his skin riddled with so many pus-filled boils that he could no longer shift forms.
I covered my mouth, holding back bile, and rushed back to Riker’s side. His face was ashen, and his mouth turned downward in a nauseous grimace.
“Brielle, look at the tables next to their beds,” he hissed, pointing. I held up my hands and noticed the jars held liquids of various colors. The tools looked like thin skewers and blades, and some of them glinted with fresh blood.
“This isn’t just a prison cell,” I whispered, horrified. “This is a torture chamber.”
18
Brielle
“WE NEED TO LEAVE, BRIELLE. Now.” Riker tugged on my arm.
“We have to help them!” I gestured to the prison cells. My eyes fell on the sharp instruments coated with demon blood. How long had these prisoners been here? How long had the Count been torturing them?
A door slammed shut high above us, echoing throughout the cavern. Riker and I froze and exchanged a horrified look.
“We have to leave,” he hissed again, grabbing my hand. “If we’re caught down here . . .”
I stared at the vampire with the bloody gash. Bile and regret rose up inside me, threatening to strangle me. I couldn’t just leave them.
Footsteps echoed. Someone was coming down the stairs.
“Brielle,” Riker whispered, pulling on my hand. “We can find a way to free them later. But we can’t help them if we’re caught.”
A lump formed in my throat. I nodded and ran with Riker toward the staircase. The footsteps drew nearer and nearer. I muttered a quick spell to extinguish the lights on my hands.
When the footsteps were practically on top of us, I grabbed Riker’s arms and held him still. Together, we skirted the edge of the staircase and waited, holding our breaths. In a low whisper, I muttered,
“Magic above, conceal us here,
Hide us from those who draw near.”
Magic crackled within me, sweeping over me and Riker. I felt power emanating from our bodies, proof that my cloaking spell worked.
We held perfectly still until a dark figure loomed just in front of us. Riker’s hand shook in my grasp. We backed up, allowing the figure to pass. My heart lurched when I recognized him—Ignacio.
Ignacio stopped for a moment, his head turning as he looked around. Terror gripped my body. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth.
At long last, Ignacio continued down the steps until he faded from view. His footsteps became a mere echo in the cavern.
“Come on,” Riker whispered, and we hurried up the steps. I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder to see if Ignacio noticed us.
“What’s he doing down here?” I asked.
“No idea,” Riker said.
Nausea swirled in my stomach at the thought of the mages working with the Count to torture demons. If Ignacio was down here, it meant he knew exactly what was going on.
I shoved my thoughts away, trying to keep my emotions at bay until we reached the top. Riker held my hand as we continued our climb. The door was still ajar, and we pushed it open, climbing up the final staircase and emerging in the hallway adorned with paintings. Light filtered through the windows, momentarily blinding me in contrast to the darkness below.
I pressed my back against the wall, gasping for breath while my heart raced a mile a minute.
“What . . . the bloody hell . . . was that?” Riker panted. His eyes were wide, and his face had completely drained of color.
I shook my head numbly. The fear within me subsided, and anger slowly took its place. “How could the Count do this?”
“You knew how he felt about demons, Brielle.”
“That doesn’t excuse this!” I cried, waving a hand toward the staircase. “He’s torturing demons! And why? Because he thinks they’re an abomination? Maybe I should torture him for the same reason!”
“You don’t know anything about those prisoners,” Riker said softly. “They could be criminals. Murderers.”
“Even so, they don’t deserve that! They don’t deserve to be cut up and experimented on! They deserve a fair trial and a humane sentence.”
Riker threw his hands in the air. “These are unprecedented times, Brielle. I’m sure that, were it not for the time loop, they would be getting justice right now. But—”
“Who decided the Count should be in charge? Light casters break the law too, but I didn’t see any down there!”
Riker rubbed a hand along his face. “Brielle, I understand your father is a demon and you’re protective of casters like him. But you can’t ignore the statistics. Demonhunters hunt demons. Because demons are more likely to commit crimes. Creatures like vampires and werewolves thirst for blood. The urge to bite and feast is almost uncontrollable. Light casters don’t have that same problem.”
“I don’t need a lecture on demons,” I snapped. “This is still wrong. You can’t deny that, Riker.”
“No, I can’t.” He sighed. “But we need more information before we do anything about this.”
My nostrils flared. I crossed my arms and didn’t answer.
“Please, Brielle. Promise me you’ll wait. I swear I’ll work with you to solve this and free those prisoners, but we need time.”
My jaw ticked back and forth, and I exhaled. “Fine. I’ll wait.”
Riker’s eyes swam with relief. Suddenly, his whole body stiffened, becoming so tense that his tendons and veins stood out. His back arched, and his mouth opened in silent agony. His jaw went rigid, and his eyes rolled back until they were all white.
“Riker?” I said, stepping toward him.
His arms swung forward, knocking me backward. I fell to the ground, my chest throbbing from his blow. What the hell? When I rose to my feet, I found him twitching and convulsing.
He was having a fit.
My blood chilled as I remembered his ailment: he had violent visions.
I reached for him, but I knew if I got closer, he might hit me again.
“Riker!” I shouted, trying to get through to him. But his white eyes didn’t even blink. His body continued thrashing until he slammed against the wall. The paintings rattled from the impact.
I took a deep breath and muttered,
“Magic above, surround this space,
Freeze my friend and hold him in place.”
My blue magic surrounded Riker until he went completely still, his mouth still hanging open and his face taut with agony. His limbs were outstretched at odd angles.
He looked completely alien. Like some creature instead of the Riker I knew.
My stomach swirled with terror. Was the vision hurting him? Was he in pain right now?
I had to do something before the spell wore off. I glanced up and down his body, knowing he was too heavy to carry by myself. My heart pounding, I looked down the hallway and peered around the corner. My eyes fell on the open doors of the library. Perhaps I could drag him there.
For a moment, I glanced in the other direction toward the dining hall. Soft voices echoed as the others finished their lunch.
But I couldn’t ask for help. I didn’t trust the Four Douchebags, and I certainly didn’t trust the mages anymore.
I had to do this myself.
I took a deep breath and carefully lowered Riker so he lay on the floor. Then, I lifted his arms and dragged him. His backside slid easily on the polished wood floor. My arms quivered from the strain of pulling so much weight, but I gritted my teeth and pressed forward. Sweat coated my face and nec
k. Pain flared in my arms.
You can do this. You can do this.
Finally, I reached the library. I gingerly lowered Riker’s arms so he lay in front of the fireplace. Then, I collapsed next to him, gasping for breath. Energy seeped out of me. The spell was wearing off.
I shifted and sat up, hovering over Riker’s inert form. My hands fluttered uselessly over his chest and face. I wasn’t a healer. I had no idea how to help him.
My mind raced with possibilities—all the spells I’d written. I closed my eyes, muttering under my breath until I remembered one I’d tried years ago. Clearing my throat, I placed my hands over Riker’s body and whispered,
“Magic above, I call upon thee,
To heal this man in front of me.”
I waited, then opened my eyes. Nothing happened.
I swore under my breath. Part of me had known that a person couldn’t just be healed. You had to have the right abilities and, often, the right ingredients as well. Perhaps with no affinity it was an impossible task for me.
I inhaled and tried again,
“Magic above, hear my call,
Relax this man and make him calm.”
Still nothing. Though Riker was frozen, his body was still stiff and in obvious pain.
Panic swelled within me. You can do this. I watched him for a long moment. Slowly, the blue glow surrounding him faded. I was out of time.
What had Riker told me? He often had violent visions. Which meant a vision had taken over his mind.
Angel had the same problem. Her visions caused her pain and anguish. Mom had once said that when that happened, it meant the vision had overpowered her mind—that her brain wasn’t capable of processing it on its own.
Maybe Riker had the same problem.
Closing my eyes again, I placed my hands over his chest and whispered,
“Magic above, empower his brain.
Release the vision that causes him pain.”
Power thrummed through me, vibrating like an engine. I gasped and opened my eyes. The blue glow surrounded Riker again, and my magic rippled like water.
Then a sharp, rattling gasp poured from Riker’s mouth. His body quivered, but he no longer thrashed. Instead he shook violently as if he were freezing. Gradually, his face relaxed, but his eyes were still white.
He sat up slowly, facing me with those terrifying empty eyes. My breath caught in my throat.
In a hoarse, ethereal voice that wasn’t his own, he said, “Three months hence, a choice will be made. A threat will emerge, powerful and afraid. Darkness will rise and cover us all. And then her magic will make us fall.”
A chill raced through my body. I stared at Riker, numb with shock. He exhaled, his body drooping. When he crumpled, I lunged forward to catch him before he face-planted. I held up his shoulders and propped him up against the wall next to the fireplace.
He sucked in several ragged breaths. His eyes closed, his mouth open as if he were asleep.
Worry clenched my stomach. I scooted closer to him and took his hand in mine. It was cold and clammy.
“Riker?” I whispered.
He inhaled deeply, his eyelids fluttering open. Then, his blue eyes fixed on me, filled with confusion. “Brielle?”
“Oh, thank Lilith.” I leapt forward, wrapping my arms around him and clutching him tightly. “I was so scared.”
“I . . . I . . . oh, bloody hell, tell me I didn’t . . .”
I nodded before pulling away from him. “You had a vision.”
Riker’s eyes closed. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Damn it. What happened? Did I hurt you?” He opened his eyes, looking me over.
“No.” I paused. “You . . . you don’t remember?”
Riker shook his head.
“I cast a spell on you to freeze you in place. Then, I dragged you here. By the way, sorry if your butt hurts.”
Riker looked at me in bewilderment, but amusement flickered in his eyes. “That’s incredible, Brielle. No one has been able to subdue my visions before.”
I bit my lip. “That isn’t all. I cast . . . another spell.” I took a deep breath and recited the spell I’d used to wake him up.
Riker stared vacantly at the bookshelf behind me. “Interesting,” he muttered, his gaze far away.
“Nothing else was working,” I went on, unable to stop myself from babbling. “I realized I had to address the cause behind your fit, which was the vision. My sister, Angel, suffers from the same thing. She’s a Seer and her brain can’t handle her visions, so her body reacts by seizing. She has to take a special medication, and sometimes she wakes up with migraines. Most visions she doesn’t remember at all, and . . .” I trailed off, realizing I was rambling. My mouth clamped shut. “Sorry.”
Riker smiled at me. “It’s all right, Brielle.” He leaned forward, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Thank Lilith you knew what to do in this situation. It could’ve been a lot worse.”
I clutched his hand against my cheek, relishing the warmth of his palm on my skin. “You really had me worried, Riker.”
Riker chuckled. “You? Worried? Well, then I’ve achieved the impossible.”
I shook my head, grinning. “Your humor’s back. That means you must be feeling better.”
His smile faded, and he looked at me with warm eyes. “I am.”
For a moment, I was lost in his gaze. Then, I cleared my throat and looked away. “Riker, your vision . . .” I paused and took a breath before telling him what he’d said in that strange, mystical voice.
Riker’s brows knitted together. “How peculiar.”
“Do you know what it means?”
He shook his head, frowning. “My mum told me I sometimes recited something similar when I had visions, but she could never decipher them.”
“Did they ever come true?”
Riker shrugged one shoulder. “It’s hard to tell. If you can’t decipher the words, then how do you know if it came true? According to Mum, I once foretold of a great battle between gods and monsters, but obviously that never came to pass. Now, if you interpret ‘gods’ as Lilith’s beast and ‘monsters’ as demons, well then . . .” He trailed off and shared a grimace with me. We both knew what he was referring to.
I thought of the line he’d spoken: A threat will emerge, powerful and afraid. The word “afraid” had struck me. How often did you imagine a terrifying and powerful adversary that was afraid?
I sighed and shook my head. “Whatever your vision meant, I’m glad you’re all right.”
“What an exciting afternoon this has turned out to be.” Riker grinned at me, and we both laughed. He took my hand. “I’m glad you’re here, Brielle.”
My smile faded as we stared at each other. Heat churned between us. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm in my chest.
He leaned forward. I spotted a sprinkling of freckles across his pale cheeks. His blue eyes bore into mine.
We were so close that I could taste his sweet breath. His minty smell enveloped me like a caress.
Somehow, my body knew what to do, though my limbs felt frozen. I closed my eyes and leaned into him. His lips covered mine, timidly at first. Just barely brushing against my mouth.
Then, we drew closer, our chests touching and our arms wrapping around each other. My lips moved over his, exploring and searching. His breath was hot and sweet as it mingled with mine. My hand wrapped around his neck, and I slid my fingers through his soft hair.
He moaned against my lips, and I pushed against him, climbing on his lap. I couldn’t stop. Heat scorched over every inch of me. I pressed my palm against his cheek, which was prickly with stubble. His hands snared my waist, pulling me closer. Our heavy breaths pulsed around us until it was all I could hear.
A door slammed, echoing in the hall, and our mouths broke apart. My heart jumped in my throat, and my lips felt numb. I was suddenly aware of my body wrapped around Riker’s like some whore. His hands were on my waist—no wait, they were much lower than my waist.
Alarm raced through me, and I scrambled off him, my eyes wide. I couldn’t meet his gaze.
“Brielle,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry. I haven’t—” I stopped before I blurted out that I’d never kissed anyone before.
“Hey.” Riker scooted forward and touched my hand. “It’s all right. Brielle, that was—that was amazing. I’ve never kissed anyone like that.”
I tried to ignore the way my stomach clenched as I realized he’d kissed other girls before me. Of course he had.
I swallowed. My mouth was dry. Why couldn’t I speak?
“Do you”—Riker cleared his throat—“do you regret it? I mean, uh, was it enjoyable for you?” He winced and looked at me with anguished eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
Slowly, the panic inside me subsided. I took a deep breath. “No, you didn’t. I wanted to. I enjoyed it a lot, actually.” My face burned as I dropped my gaze.
Riker laughed nervously, reaching forward to stroke my cheek with his thumb. “Good. So did I.”
We shared a smile, our gazes locking again. That same heat returned, swirling between us like something tangible.
Footsteps echoed in the hall. I gasped and jumped to my feet, prepared to bolt if I had to. Then, I stopped, realizing how ridiculous I was being. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and extended a hand to Riker.
Riker grinned and took my hand. I helped him stand, and he extended his elbow toward me. “Shall we get some lunch, Miss Gerrick?”
I nudged him but took his arm, biting back another smile. “Yes, Mr. Wilkinson.”
THE NEXT MORNING, I found Riker waiting for me outside my bedroom. He was dressed in a gold waistcoat, and his arms were crossed, causing the fabric to bunch around his biceps.
I stopped short when I saw him. Heat immediately flooded my cheeks. I rubbed my nose. “Hey.”
Riker offered a low bow. “Miss Gerrick.”
I elbowed him. “Stop that. The Count’s nowhere near us.”
“Good.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine.
Fire exploded within me, but I clung to the small shred of sanity left inside me and drew away from him.
