Page 14 of Blood Caged

Get a grip, Daire. She can’t see you.

I find myself transfixed by those eyes, though. They’re compelling. Probably an indication of her power. I imagine she is incredibly skilled in the art of manipulation.

Blood magic. Plus, the ability to manipulate people. And who knows what else she has up her sleeve. Certainly enough to scare Maxwell. Yes, she’s dangerous, alright. Pretty lips and a perky nose can’t disguise that. Nor can a smattering of freckles.

I glance at Grayson. “It’s time to meet our guest,” I tell him. He nods once, waiting as I head to the door.

I straighten my spine, squaring my shoulders as I school my features into a mask of cold indifference. It’s an expression I’ve perfected over centuries, one that has served me well in countless negotiations and confrontations.

As I stride down the corridor, my footsteps echo off the stark concrete walls. The sound is oddly comforting in its familiarity – how many times have I walked similar halls in my longexistence? But never quite like this. Never to face someone like her.

I slow as I approach her cell, my hand hovering over the security panel beside it. Through the thick metal, I can hear her pacing, muttering to herself. The scent of her blood still lingers in the air, stirring a hunger I thought I’d long since mastered.

For a moment, I hesitate. What am I about to unleash? What have I already set in motion by agreeing to this?

No. This is necessary. For Maxwell. For all of us.

I steel myself, pushing aside doubts and misgivings. Whatever power she possesses, whatever tricks she might try, I’ve faced worse. I will not be swayed by a witch, no matter how compelling her eyes or how intoxicating the scent of her blood is.

I swipe my thumb over the panel, which is programmed to grant me access. The lock mechanism clicks open. My fingers close around the door handle, ready to turn it and confront whatever awaits me on the other side.

This is it.

5

Chapter 5

Mia

Iwake with astart, my head pounding. The world spins as I try to sit up, and I have to close my eyes against a wave of nausea.

What happened? Where am I?

My fingers stray over the surface of the rough fabric beneath me, a thin blanket. This is clearly not my room, not my bed.

Slowly, I open my eyes again. The room comes into focus – small, bare, with gray walls. No windows. A single door, heavy-looking and probably locked. Against the wall is a small table with a jug and a cup on top of it. As my vision clears, I notice strange markings etched into the walls. Runes. My heart races as I recognize some of them – symbols of containment, nullification.

I push myself up, ignoring the protest of sore muscles. My clothes are dirty and torn. There’s dried blood on my sleeve. The events of last night come rushing back – the ambush, the fight. Heath’s betrayal.

Anger surges through me, and I instinctively reach for my magic.

Nothing.

Where there should be a wellspring of power, there’s only emptiness. I try again, concentrating harder. Still nothing. Panic claws at my throat.

“Calm down,” I mutter to myself.

Swinging my legs off the bed, my feet hit bare concrete, and it occurs to me that my sneakers are missing. So is the belt I was wearing on my jeans. I think back to things I’ve heard about prison inmates harming themselves. Did they think I’d hang myself with my freaking shoelaces?

I stand on shaky legs and approach the nearest wall, running my fingers over the runes. They’re carved deep into the stone, pulsing faintly with an eerie blue light. No wonder my magic is gone – this entire room is designed to suppress it.

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. There has to be a way out of this, for crying out loud. I’ve handled worse…haven’t I?

But as I look around the bare cell, a shudder ripples through me. Without my magic, I feel small. Vulnerable. And for the first time in a long time, truly afraid.

I close my eyes, trying to calm my racing thoughts. There has to be a way to contact my family. Even if my magic is suppressed, our connection should still be there, right? I’ve always been able to sense them, no matter where I am.

I focus on Gran first, picturing her warm smile and the comforting scent of her herbal teas. I reach out with my mind, searching for that familiar presence.