Page 16 of Dark Flame

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Time means nothing down here. A day may have passed or a mere hour. Either way, it’s been toolong and I need that vampire to return. Fighting against him is a distraction from how small this cell has gotten.

I’ve tried to stand, to walk, to remind myself there’sspace, but the anxiety has rendered me useless, and the longer I remain inept on the ground, the worse it’s getting.

This day needs to come to an end. Everything muststop. The cell needs to be larger…

For the millionth time, I trace my runes, but they’re not really doing anything to calm me. So I try to recall some of the advice Mom and Dad have given me over the years, for once welcoming the memories. Since their deaths, I’ve been trying so hard not to think about them, but now I need their teachings more than ever.

When we first learned of my claustrophobia, Mom always told me when spaces felt too small to recount something calming. I discovered reciting incantations helps, and though I no longer have the ability to conjure them, the empty words are still comforting.

For the first time in hours, I use my voice, my lips dry and parched.

“Without the flames, make me warm.”If I had my magick, that would heat my body.

“Fire, Water, Air, and Earth, I summon you.”To call upon all elements, most used by High Priestesses.

“Fire, be gone.”To extinguish the flames.

On and on, I recite as many spells as I know. Ones for healing, for the elements, even for cleaning my bedroom. Anything and everything while I trace the runes. The walls eventually back up. Even the shadows seem to lighten; something that would have been nice to know weeks ago…

Once the walls allow me to breathe again, I lift my head, gazing around at the prison that hasn’t changed in the hours passing. At least I hope it’s been hours—multiple. I’d like to say my grumbling stomach would be screaming more than it already is if days had passed.

I need to get out of here and not allow whatever that sicko vampire plans. Without my powers, I’m left with whatever my body can do—which isn’t much against an immortal. I’ll never be able to take him on physically, and even if I get a chance to bolt, he’ll catch me, exactly as he’s done every other time.

It leaves me with few options: making deals, which I doubt he’d take if his entire thing is to profit from the cure in my blood.

The cure…of course.

It’s impossible to fight a vampire, but less so a human, especially one who wouldn’t be adjusted to the clumsy and slower speed.

Before I fully rationalize the likelihood of this working, I’m crawling all over the cell’s floor, searching for a tool. I pass over smaller ones I won’t be able to properly grip until finding a flatter, longer one. One already in a semi-useful shape.

With it, I drag myself to the cell’s bars and begin sawing the rock, sharpening my weapon.

* * *

The musclesin my upper arms are burning with more effort than they’ve ever been forced into, but the rock is much sharper, filed to the point it’ll hopefully be good enough for my needs.

When the door down the hall clangs, I tuck my new weapon into my palm and return to my old position, head lowered and knees up, feigning misery rather than near victory. An anxious energy makes it difficult to appear beaten, nerves and excitement mingling knowing this can be over for good if my plan is successful.

At the last second, I wonder if he has cameras in here. It’s a place to store prisoners; one would think he’d want to watch them, but the fact we’re inside adungeonof all things tells me the vampire’s not exactly living modern. So hopefully he has no way of seeing what I’ve done.

In that familiar whooshing sound of his speed, the cell door opens and he appears, no less irritatingly sexy than he was last time. He’s wearing black slacks and a black button-down, both immaculate and no doubt expensive. His hair is damp, as though freshly showered. A spare drop of water drips from a strand when he tips his head towards my runes and merely smirks before stepping over them, his shiny shoes dragging through the design.

Well, that answers that.If the runes worked, he shouldn’t have been able to enter. They’re designed to keep danger out, and he’s the definition of danger.

As he enters the cell, the darkness lifts, the room becoming larger when the shadows evaporate. Just like my bedroom. Whatever’s been sent to torment me seems threatened by the vampire, and right now, I’m not entirely sure which I’d prefer.

The devil you know and all that.

“Cute. You really thought those would work?”

I lift my head, facing him directly while pretending my stomach isn’t in knots. “I hoped.” I curl my hand tighter around the rock, ensuring no part peeks out.

“And if they did, what should they have done?”

“Kept you away.”