Page 73 of Blood Caged
The guilt is a gnawing beast in my chest. I should have found a way to save them. I should have offered myself in their place. I should have…
But I didn’t. And now I’m alone.
The door opens, and Soren walks in, his tall frame filling the doorway. A crisp, dark shirt stretches across his chest and shoulders, emphasizing how broad he is. I stiffen, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. The room suddenly feels too small, the air too thick to breathe.
“You haven’t eaten,” he says, gesturing to the untouched plate on the table.
I can’t help but laugh, a bitter sound that scrapes my throat. “How do you expect me to eat after what happened?”
Soren’s face remains impassive. “You need to keep up your strength,” he says, his voice maddeningly calm.
“My strength?” I spit the words out. “For what? So you can drain me dry? So I can watch more of my friends die?”
He flinches at that, and I press on, fury giving me courage.
“What happened to Sabine and Jemma?” I demand, stepping closer to him. “Did you kill them yourself, or did you let someone else do your dirty work?”
Soren’s jaw tightens. “Mia, I—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off. “Don’t you dare try to explain it away. They’re dead because of you. Because of all of you.”
I’m trembling now, tears threatening to spill over. But I refuse to let him see me cry. “How can you stand there, so calm, knowing what you’ve done? Do their lives mean nothing to you?”
For a moment, Soren’s mask slips. I see a weariness there that seems to go bone-deep. But then it’s gone, replaced by that infuriating stoicism.
“I did what I had to do,” he says quietly. “What was necessary.”
“Necessary?” I echo, disbelief coloring my voice. “Murdering innocent women was necessary?”
Soren doesn’t respond, his silence only fueling my anger. I want to scream, to rage, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I’m feeling. But I know it would be useless. He’s made his choice, drawn his line in the sand.
And I’m on the wrong side of it.
“Let me show you around,” he changes the subject abruptly.
“Seriously?” I stick out my jaw stubbornly. “You really expect me to forget everything that happened so you can give me a tour?”
“Yes. We’ll start with the sleeping quarters.” He walks past me to a door leading away from the living area. He opens it and gestures inside. I don’t move for a moment, then realize it’s futile. I walk past him into the room. It’s as spartan as the rest of the place, but the bed looks comfortable.
I walk over to it, my fingers tracing over the silk comforter. The irony of my situation isn’t lost on me. From one prison to another, only this one has higher thread counts.
“You’ll sleep here,” Soren says, his voice cutting through my bitter musings.
I can’t help the harsh laugh that escapes me. “Let me guess: you’ll sleep on the couch. Or do you have a nice cozy coffin to curl up in?”
His eyes narrow slightly, but his voice remains calm. “Contrary to popular belief, we don’t need much rest. And what little we do require happens during daylight hours. But this apartment was designed with vampires in mind. It’s completely light-tight. I can stay up all day if I choose.”
“How convenient,” I mutter. “So you can keep an eye on me 24/7?”
Soren doesn’t deny it. Instead, he gestures for me to follow him. “Let me show you the rest of the place.”
I trail behind him as he gives me a brief tour of what he calls his “apartment.” It’s compact but undeniably well-appointed.
“These rooms once made up a guest suite,” Soren explains. “Before the estate was…repurposed.”
He’s leading me into a small alcove. Despite myself, I find my curiosity piqued. It’s the only part of the place that shows any sign that someone lives here. Shelves of books line one wall. I run my hand along one of them, noting titles both ancient and modern.
“Quite the collection,” I murmur, wondering if this was where he kept that copy of “Sense and Sensibility” before giving it to me.