Tentatively, my eyes met his again.
Leo, my closest ally, looked back at me with burning hatred, the last thing I saw before a bag was put over my head.
CHAPTER 8
It was the most painful walk I had ever endured. Every step felt like it drove the cuffs and the chain deeper into my already blistering skin, threatening to break all the way down to bone. I winced beneath the bag, biting a bloody sore into my bottom lip from the effort of holding in my screams.
This was almost as bad as the time General Frost had tortured me for information, and that was saying something because that downright sucked.
They marched us down a street and into what sounded like some kind of an alley because of all the reverb. A metallic door groaned open, and then they were shoving me down some stairs, being so rough with me that I didn’t have enough time to find my footing, and nearly slipped and fell. The hunters wouldn’t let me though. Every time I tripped, they jerked back on my hair, using it to support my weight until I regained my balance, which was fairly quick considering I had a pretty tender scalp to begin with.
“Keep moving,” Leo growled, twisting my arm painfully.
I thought my heart would literally crack down the middle, and I’d keel over right there. All during the march that would probably lead to my death, I had tried to think about anything else other than the fact that Leo was the one holding me captive. Tears stung my eyes, making my face hot, but I refused to let them fall. A turbulent mixture of emotions fought for control: I felt anger at myself and the whole situation; resentment toward Aden for making me this way and being the ultimate reason of the tension between myself and Leo; and incredible sadness for knowing things could never go back to being the way they were between us. It just felt useless, like all these years of friendship had been destroyed in a blink of an eye.
I knew we’d arrived at wherever it was we were going by the sudden spike of emotions riding the air. My “sixth” sense was nearly overwhelmed as I struggled to block the pounding waves of fear, loathing, curiosity, and rage geared toward us as we were paraded through the crowd.
When I’d first learned how to use glamour, I’d nearly lost my mind in trying to shut out all the feelings that weren’t mine. Thanks to Angel, I’d learned how to control them.
The hood was ripped off, and I was nearly blinded by bright white warehouse lights. Every now and then they flickered, meaning we must still be on the outskirts of the White Sector. Electricity got sketchier the farther out one went in the sector. I never knew why until I discovered the underground vampire base had been siphoning the city’s electricity.
The flickering lights made it hard to focus on anything for long. I didn’t recognize the place, which meant the Guild had changed locations again. It was typical protocol, as the Guild operated under the government radar, and it was illegal to cross into the Red Sectors to begin with. Hunting vampires was a federal offense that could land a person in jail for life.
Metallic walls rose up on the four sides of the large, rectangular room. At least a hundred people were gathered, shouting crude things as they marched us through. I vaguely registered someone preaching in the distance about “the people’s rights” and “how vampire hunting should be made legal.” Beyond the row of spectators, it looked like a group was clustered around a riled-up hunter.
For the most part, I didn’t recognize anyone, though the people who did know me looked either shocked or disappointed when I passed. I tried not to make eye contact, as I figured it would only make things worse. It might even spur some of the more enraged hunters to take action and go medieval on us right then and there.
I was all too aware of the startling assortment of Scarlet Steel weapons I saw dangling from the belts of the other hunters; the strangest of which were two scarlet sai, their handles wrapped up in black leather. They looked like something you would see in a samurai movie, the type of weapon a muscular warrior in plate armor might use. So when my eyes lifted and found the face of a young Asian girl about my age instead of Bruce Lee, I was a little surprised.
I couldn’t see much of her because she was standing in the back, but I could tell from the small frame of her shoulders that she was petite, with beautiful, slanted eyes, one blue, the other purple, and a stern set to her full lips. Her hair was short, almost a pixie cut, with two long, red-dyed strips framing her face.
She held my gaze, glaring back at me, the only person around who wasn’t going completely crazy at our presence. I couldn’t quite read the expression on her face; it was somewhere between thoughtful and stoic.
I blinked and she was gone.
Leo shoved me hard from behind. “Move,” he growled.
With careful practice, I kept my face perfectly composed, appearing indifferent and maybe even a little annoyed, though I felt like I was falling apart inside. I wanted to turn around and wrap him up in my arms like we used to do when we were little kids. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, and that I wanted things to just go back to being the way they were between us. But I knew it would take a lot more than wishing to fix things that were this jacked up.
The sound of the crowd died away to a low mumble as they led us through a narrow corridor and down a small set of concrete steps into a prison block. The bars weren’t Scarlet Steel, but then again they didn’t need to be; the horrible red stuff wrapped around our necks and wrists was more than enough to keep us in check.
The walls were made from cinder blocks; about five cells stretched down one side. Chairs sat in them, some stained by rust and what appeared to be dried blood. McGuiness produced a set of keys and opened one of the cells. A rickety-looking wooden chair sat in the middle of the floor. “Put her in there,” he ordered.
Leo shoved me inside, roughly sitting me down before removing the chain from around my neck and wrapping it around my shoulders instead, binding me to the chair. Every muscle and tendon within me screamed with pain, fueled by the burning sensation emanating from the no doubt swollen, tenderized flesh at my neck. But I didn’t even bat a lash as Leo finished securing my binds. He rose, looking down on me, his eyes nearly black with hatred.
I stared back at him, a hundred different emotions warring inside me.
Without a word or a backward glance, he turned and stalked out of the cell past McGuiness, who shut the door behind him and locked it. Leo didn’t even spare a glance for Rook, who was bound to a metal chair in the cell next to mine. Farther down, a hunter I didn’t recognize was tightening a length of red chain around a miserable-looking Dezyre. Her bottom lip was trembling. Even from two cells down, her fear was stifling.
Good. She had reason to be afraid. Knowing McGuiness, he would just line us all up, blindfold us, and shoot us. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t let us have blindfolds…
Leo stood behind McGuiness and clasped his hands, staring blankly forward. My eyes narrowed as I studied him. Now that I had a chance to really look him in the face, there was something off about it. He had a haunted look about him, enhanced by the shadows hanging under his eyes and the slightly sunken in look to his cheeks, making his cheekbones look sharper. My eyes roved the rest of him, and though he was still nice to look at and muscular, his frame had gotten smaller, like he had lost a lot of weight.
Worry creased my brow. What’s happened to you, Leo?
Not looking at me, he popped his neck, then reached up and rubbed out some kink. My stomach rolled as I spied the two faded scars on his neck from where I had bit him. Once again guilt punched me in the gut, nearly doubling me over.
After all the cells were locked up, McGuiness surveyed us like a proud warden who was housing the FBI’s most wanted. “That ought to keep them out of trouble, least ‘til we’re ready to start the interrogations.”
I swallowed, knowing exactly what type of interrogation he had planned. Dezyre whimpered. I wanted to snap at her to keep her mouth shut, that fear would only give McGuiness more power over her than he already had.
McGuiness pointed
at a guy. “Drake, you’re up first for guard duty. If they so much as look at you the wrong way, you have my permission to knife ‘em.”
“Yes, sir,” Drake said, crossing his scrawny arms and giving us a smug grin. He looked about fifteen, with gangly features that suggested he hadn’t started growing into his body yet.
“Rinaldi,” McGuiness said, turning to Leo, “you’re with me. The rest of you, get back to training.”
“Yes, sir.” The five other guys left, and McGuiness and Leo walked past and disappeared from sight down another hallway.
I glanced over at Dezyre. She was shaking, though I could tell from the way she was biting down on her lip that she was trying not to sob anymore. At least she had that much common sense.
Rook looked uneasy. His eyes caught my own, hard and grim. “Why do you think they’re keeping us alive?” he whispered. “I thought the Black Cross Guild executed vampires on the spot.”
“They do,” I whispered back, glancing at the guard.
He was standing in front of Dezyre’s cell, eyeing her up and down like a piece of candy. She wasn’t shaking as badly, looking back at him with unmasked disgust.
I cringed. “They’re keeping us alive because they’re probably wanting information. I bet they’re going to torture us to try to find out where the base is.”
“How do you know?”
“Call it a hunch,” I said darkly. And by “hunch,” I meant “personal experience” with McGuiness’s brand of interrogation. It tended to line up with what Frost deemed as appropriate ways to fish information out of a prisoner.
“Drake!”
The boy’s spine went rigid, and he wheeled about, his face draining of color as McGuiness sauntered back into the hall. Leo and the Asian girl I’d seen earlier followed behind him. She spared me a quick glance and then looked away, her face all business.
Something sweet brushed my nose and I sniffed faintly. It was so welcoming in the dank staleness of the jail, like jasmine and honeysuckle. Whoever she was, she had good taste in perfume.
Perfume – or any frivolous beauty product – wasn’t cheap, and was becoming increasingly harder to come by. I wondered if she’d stolen it, or if she actually came from a well-off background. Looking at her “thrift shop chic” clothes, from her black tights, to her long, Victorian steampunk jacket, I’d say she didn’t. Then again, having been forced to attend galas for my mother’s election campaign, I’d met some eccentric rich types who dressed similarly, so maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched after all.
“Now, I know you weren’t just flirting with a lowlife vampire,” McGuiness said, fire burning within his dark eyes.
Drake gulped. I swore he paled even more. “No – no, sir. She was getting ornery, so I thought I’d teach her a lesson.”
“Ornery my ass,” Dezyre grumbled.
“Shut up,” I hissed.
“What’s that, McAllister?” McGuiness stepped closer to my cell, his hands clasped behind him. He leaned toward the bars, peering at me with his mean, beady-eyed gaze. “You have something you’d like to share?”
I stared at him evenly. Oh, I had loads I’d like to say to him. A stream of obscenities built up along my tongue, but I kept my lips pressed firmly together. If I’d been alone, I more than likely would have flown off the handle by now. But with Rook and Dezyre there, I couldn’t risk their safety just for the satisfaction of getting a rile out of McGuiness, no matter how big a douche he was.
I looked away. “No,” I said coldly.
McGuiness made a face, indifferent. “That’s too bad. For your sake, I hope you have plenty to say, otherwise you’re in for a long night.”
Before I had a chance to process his words, he opened my cell, and Leo and the girl stepped inside. Faster than lightning, the girl retrieved a Scarlet Steel sai, digging the point in the side of my throat.
“Make one move, and I’ll kill you,” she said.
Her voice was husky but young, with that sexy, “always hoarse” quality few people could pull off well. Somehow, it made her sound confident and spunky, and I didn’t doubt her ability to follow through with what she said. Something told me she wasn’t a girl who joked around.
Leo undid the length of chain around my shoulders, passing it off to the girl so she could keep the point of her sai firmly planted in my neck. A raw, throbbing sensation remained where the chain had been. Even though it hadn’t pierced skin, I was still allergic, and it left me feeling itchy and hot from where it had partially burnt through my sweater.
“Get up.” Leo grabbed my arm and jerked me up, gripping so tightly I thought I would lose circulation. I was sped toward the door and out into the hall, with the girl at one side, Leo on the other, and McGuiness behind me.
My mouth went dry as I realized where we were going. Scenarios of McGuiness torturing me flashed through my mind, making my stomach churn.
Stay calm. You’re tougher than his will. You’re made of fire and steel.
We stampeded along, our footsteps echoing loudly, yet still unable to drown out the sound of my heart in my ears. I was all too aware of the blood rushing through my veins, filling me with nervous energy.
Leo kicked open an old wooden door at the end of the hall, and we walked inside a small room with white walls and checkerboard-patterned tiling. The girl flicked a switch and more lights came on, making me squint. Their harsh white glow shone down on the metallic chair bolted to the floor in the center of the room. Red cuffs – also made from Scarlet Steel – were attached to the arms and legs, and a weird machine sat off in the corner.
It took me a minute to figure out what it was.
It was an electric chair.
My brows furrowed. “Pittsburgh doesn’t have a prison with an electric chair,” I said out loud, really more to myself than to anyone else.
McGuiness walked into the room as Leo forced me down. After undoing my cuffs, Leo and the girl pressed my arms against the armrests and began securing the binds. Tears welled in my eyes as I felt the renewed burn of the acidic metal, but I didn’t once flinch. Instead, my body trembled with the effort of holding in my pain, of trying to mold it into something else.
McGuiness strolled in front of me. “We brought it in from Rockview,” he said proudly. Rockview was a correctional facility situated off in a smaller Pennsylvanian town. Far as I knew, it was lost to the wilds of the Red Sector, since the government had forced as many people as possible to relocate into the Pittsburgh and Philadelphia White Sectors, the only two in the entire state. “It adds a little extra something to the room and really helps set the tone, don’t you think?”
I couldn’t argue. It did make me nervous. I shouldn’t have asked, but some morbid part of me wanted to know. Bracing myself, I said, “Does it work?”
A wicked grin came over McGuiness’s face, and he walked over to the wall, stopping in front of the machinery I’d seen when we first walked in. Staring me in the eyes, he reached for a lever and flipped it.
I sucked in a breath, my shoulders rising up around my ears with tension, waiting to be fried alive.
After a few seconds, at which I was pretty sure I’d have a heart attack, McGuiness’s laughter filled the room. “Look at you!” He pointed and slapped his knee. “Miss Badass Vampire is scared of being fried.” The smile fell off his face. “You’re pathetic, not to mention the weakest excuse for a hunter I’ve ever seen.”
I growled at him, flexing my wrists against the binds. “If I’m so weak, then why do you have me bound and chained in Scarlet Steel?”
McGuiness froze for a second, caught off guard. “So I can watch you squirm.” Taking a Swiss Army knife out of his pocket, he drew a thin line on the inside of both of his forearms.
The smell of fresh blood flooded the room, pulling forth my vampire instincts. Without thinking about it, my fangs protruded. Leo’s eyes widened for a second before he composed himself once more, and the girl just looked angry.
I struggled not to breathe, to not become
any more of an animal. God, why did it have to smell so good?
McGuiness walked over and knelt beside me. He reached over with his knife and lifted up the fold of my lip, studying a fang. “She’s definitely a vampire,” he said, letting it fall back down. “But how she got this way is what I’d like to know. The Rogues should have killed her.”
“They almost did,” I said quickly. Something told me not to tell McGuiness too much. “They barely left me alive when they seemed to lose interest.”
“Lose interest?” McGuiness said doubtfully. “If they ‘lost interest,’ then how come you don’t have scars?”
“Vampires heal quickly,” I said smoothly, never batting a lash. “And besides, our white blood cells are lot more sufficient than humans’. We can be injured but left with hardly have anything to show for it.”
McGuiness trailed a finger across my hand. “If that’s true, then why do you have scars at all?”
Forcing myself not to react, I glanced down. Little bumps of skin marred the flesh of my hands and along the inside of my arms where Frost had tortured me. I silently swore but didn’t let on that he’d just called me on my bullshit. “Scars acquired when human are different. They don’t heal. It’s anything new that you get, you know, after you’ve been a vampire.”
“I see,” McGuiness said dryly, rising. He pulled out the little red knife I’d seen him with earlier, the corner of his mouth turning up in a vicious smile. “Then why don’t we test that theory? Because I have a feeling you’re feeding me a load of crap, and I plan on getting to the bottom of it.”
Before I even had time to draw my next breath, he slammed the knife down, hard, straight into my hand. I cried out, feeling my tendons and veins light up with fire as the corrosive properties of the steel kicked into effect.
McGuiness grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing me to look at him as he got right down in my face. He looked angry, far angrier than I’d ever seen him. “I know there are more of you. Where are they?” he growled.
Dark Horizons (The Red Sector Chronicles) Page 9
