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CELINE

Cold.

Waking up in a daze, that’s my immediate thought.

My body shivers against a hard, frigid surface.

What the hell? Am I stuffed in a refrigerator?

I blink and try to clear the haze from my brain, but a pounding in the side of my skull makes it hard to focus. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to blink them open again hoping that will help things come into better focus.

Gingerly touching my head at the source of the pain, a hiss rips out of my throat. Tender and throbbing I can feel the goose egg forming on my skull. My fingers come away wet, and I find both dried and fresh blood crusting my hair.

What the hell happened?

I rest a hand against the floor and push up to sitting as quickly as I dare with my head throbbing. It takes me a couple tries since the pain is so debilitating, but I manage to hoist up my torso. Cradling my head in my hands I drag my legs into a criss-cross to sit.

“Fuck me,” I groan and once again the area around me blinks lazily to focus. It feels like my body has been put through a meat grinder. What did those vampires do with me after Iwas knocked out? It feels like they played hacky sack with my unconscious body.

Once I feel more in control, I scan my surroundings, but it’s so dark and dank it’s hard to make anything out.

Underneath my legs there's old stone flooring. I squint and see cell bars in front of my face. I run a finger along the metal and rust comes away.

My hearts beats rapidly in my chest as I realize the predicament I’m in. I have no clue where I am, presumably the vampire that kidnapped me is still around, and I’m a sitting duck. I might have training in taking down perps, but I’m still very much human against at least two vampires and my gut tells me there are more.

Will Zav come find me?

He has to. He’s more tuned into me than anyone, and with his vampire senses and lack of patience it can’t take him long to realize I’ve been taken. Knowing him, he probably started following me shortly after I left. I can’t imagine he was far behind.

I try to calm my heart and take a few slow breaths. He’s coming for me. I just have to be patient and figure out what’s going on.

As my eyes slowly adjust, I try to make out what I can, but it’s so dark I can’t see much beyond my cell. The only light source is a few flickering candlelit flames set into sconces on the walls outside my cell. It smells old and musty. I have to wonder if we’re somehow beneath the city. I don’t think they would’ve taken me out of Chicago.

Hobbling to my feet, my muscles scream in protest and my entire body aches from the treatment I received in coming here. I’m sure the vamp knocked me out and threw me in here without much care.

I grip the bars of my cell and push and pull to test the strength. They’re rusty but unfortunately still sturdy. One side of my cell is flush to the stone wall and the other is connected to another cell. The padlock on the door I could potentially pick if I had any kind of instrument, but at the moment I’m out of luck.

Mustering up a semblance of strength, I attempt to kick at my cell door, but it doesn’t budge. A scream of frustration wells in my throat and I tilt my head toward the ceiling.

“Conserve your strength,” a raspy voice echoes nearby.

I yelp at the unexpected sound and look toward the neighboring cell.

It’s shrouded in shadow and at first, I think I’m going crazy hearing things in my head, but after staring, I see movement in the darkness.

“Hello?” I question warily.

A groan and chains scrape against the stone floor. A shadowy form starts to make itself apparent until a man drags himself over to our shared wall of bars.

At first, he keeps his head tilted down and I can’t see his face. From what I can see, he has long dark hair which falls in a raggedy curtain. Dressed in a tunic like shirt and pants they look like they’ve seen much better days. Blood speckles stain the fabric and it’s torn and holey in many places. I’m shocked it’s staying on his body at all.

Long, elegant fingers clutch the bars in front of him. His nails are broken at odd angles and caked with dirt and dried blood. Where his skin is visible, I can tell he’s emaciated and closely resembling skin and bones instead of a healthy human being.

How long has he been here? Who is he?

Something about him reminds me of a frightened animal and I remain silent, waiting for him to speak again. He lets out a long sigh and drops his arms to his sides where he leans now against the bars.

“Don’t expel your energy unnecessarily,” he finally croaks out, and I cringe a little at the growly rasp in his tone. It’s the kind of sound when someone wakes up after sleeping for too long and they need to clear their throat.