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He lifted a bowl with an appraising eye, then another. “These are all still dirty.”

They weren’t, but I ground my teeth and didn’t say a single word as he dumped a pile of bowls back into the sink.

“Do it again.”

I said nothing, praying to any number of unspecified gods that Nelson would move along once I washed them again. Unfortunately, he wasn’t satisfied.

He looked at the cup Cook had left me. It was small, a quarter of a normal portion the others got, even less compared to what Nelson claimed. I braced for him to dump it out and toss the dirty dish into my pile. My stomach clenched at the thought, even though I was no stranger to hunger. Not anymore.

Instead, he looked from the cup, to me, and back. And spat in it.

He didn’t say another word, walking away with a spring in his step.

Whatever. I’d eaten worse.

Three years. Just three more years, and I’d be free of this place. Once my sentence was finished, I would go to the Monastery. They would take me in despite my criminal sentence. I’d finally have a place where I belonged. Where I was safe.

I just had to make it until then.

I continued on the dishes, my fingers pruned from the water. By the time I set the last one to dry, it was well past midnight. I stumbled out of the kitchen, the cup of soup clutched between my hands.

I just wanted to rest. Just a few hours.

But Nelson was still at his perch, a smirk on his lips. He slid a glass jar over to me. A healing balm, weak and non-magical.

This day just got better and better.

“You’re to see to the new prisoner. Cell 48, Block D.”

The one that had set off the other prisoners screaming.

The balm wasn’t a gift, not really. Sure, limbs rotting off from infection might sound unpleasant, but in Greymere, the only escape was death. The balm would take the latest captive that much farther from its clutches—though from the hours of whip-cracks I’d heard, it might not be enough.

I was so tired, I dared to ask, “Can this wait until tomorrow?”

Nelson shook his head, not dropping that infuriating smile. The fact he didn’t slap me for insubordination was even more worrisome. “This fellow could use a woman’s touch after the day he had. The guards were quite diligent with ‘em. I heard they didn’t leave the cell until after nightfall. Besides, I hear the new guy is a night owl.”

His little joke barely registered.All that whipping had been on one prisoner?

I snatched the balm from the desk and left before Nelson could come up with some other task. Block D was on the opposite side of Greymere from the kitchens, where the most dangerous prisoners were kept. Not that it mattered. Even the strongest witches on the outside were powerless in Greymere. Cut off from magic, they invariably went mad.

I stuck to the shadows, clutching Nelson’s skeleton key in my hand. Theoretically, it should’ve been safe to wander about the prison since all the inmates were locked up with no chance of escaping.

Only a fool would think the worst part of the prison was the prisoners, though.

Three more years.

My footsteps were nearly silent as I approached the cell. The screams had quieted at least, the inmates asleep. I didn’t relish waking this one up, but he’d be too weak to attack me if what Nelson said was true about what the guards had done.

I slid the key into the lock and opened the door, the metal letting out a loud, angry creak. A glint of red flared against the darkness.A rat?was my stupid thought. But those eyes were far too big for rats.

I dropped the key with a clang.

Nelson had sent me to tend to a vampire.

Chapter Two

I wanted to runscreaming from the cell. If I disobeyed Nelson’s order, he’d punish me. He might do something worse than simply sending me to the toilets.