Shadow gaze, p.26
Shadow Gaze, page 26
No one answered when Silver hesitantly knocked on the door.
“Hello? Anyone in here?”
She tried to put more confidence in her second attempt, but still, nothing happened. There was a window beside the door, but when she peeked inside, all she could make out was a wall and a tunnel to the right that led somewhere she couldn’t see.
The sun hadn’t fully set yet, so Hisa probably wouldn’t come close to the window while there was a sliver of light out.
Figuring it was safe to let herself in, Silver pushed the door open and stepped inside. The tunnel veered to the right immediately after she entered, with wall fixtures illuminating her path in dim yellow lights. She kept her steps quiet and measured as she walked ahead in the slightly undulating tunnel.
The inside of the cave curved like a snake. If the door was like the tip of the tail, then the shelter itself was more like the head. This was likely done to maximize protection from the sun while Hisa slept in the main room.
After about a couple dozen feet or so, the walls turned a sharp left and kept going for a bit longer before opening up on one side into the main living quarters. Right at the opening, there was a closet on the left, and that was where Silver stopped for a moment. All she could see in front of her was some sort of storage space, a sink, and a small dining area in the center. The rest of the room extended along the side where the closet was.
“Hello?” Silver tentatively called out again.
Still no answer, but she could distinctly hear a ruffling sound, like bedsheets. Was Hisa still asleep? Did Silver get the timing wrong?
Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and took a single, slow step around the closet, only to freeze at what she saw.
Two people sat on the bed together, facing the same direction. One of them, a human refugee named Trevor, was on the edge of the bed with his feet touching the ground. From the side of his face that Silver could see, he appeared almost enraptured. His eyes were closed, his mouth half-parted as he breathed out in low, shallow pants. The second person was draped over his back from behind. Her long, glossy, black hair formed a curtain that hid her face, pressed against his neck.
Silver was momentarily confused and hastily stumbled back a step. Embarrassed as she was at having walked in on something, the move came out uncoordinated. She instinctively reached out her hands to steady herself, but she nearly toppled over the closet.
The man didn’t seem to hear the disturbance and stayed as he was, but the woman’s head abruptly swiveled around. Her eyes locked on Silver’s, her red-ringed irises practically glowing in the dimly lit room. Silver’s gaze automatically zeroed in on the drop of blood trickling down from the edge of the woman’s mouth.
Fear gripped her insides. The cave walls suddenly felt like they were closing in, squeezing all the air out of her lungs.
She was running without even thinking about it, before the pair had even moved.
Once she was safely outside, Silver stopped to catch her breath, but the fear had set her heart pounding in her ribcage. Her breathing was short and loud, and tears were already falling uncontrollably from her eyes.
Recognizing the signs, she immediately flopped down against the wall and held her head in her hands. She was no stranger to panic attacks, so she knew what to do.
‘I’m not at the estate anymore,’ she told herself. ‘This is just a trauma response. It’ll pass. I’m not really in danger. This place is safe. I’m safe.’
This was the first time she’d experienced this particular trigger. Usually, her anxiety or panic attacks were limited to when she was in a moving vehicle. Still, it made perfect sense that the sight of vampires feeding would be a new trigger.
She applied the same methods of dealing with the attack as she usually did; she kept repeating the mantra to herself and tried to take slow, deep breaths. After a while, the images replaying in her mind were no longer horrifying, and she mercifully felt herself calming down.
No one had come out of the cave yet, so she quickly wiped the moisture off her face and got back on her feet. But her cheeks felt hot to the touch, and she assumed her skin was red from crying, so there was no point in trying to hide it or brush it off.
As she was considering cancelling the training and coming back another time, the door suddenly clicked open. Silver expected it to be Trevor, but when she saw long, black hair, she instinctively folded her hands in front of her in a submissive gesture and kept her eyes fixed on the ground.
“Don’t do that,” Hisa said at the same time that Silver berated herself.
Those were old habits she had picked up at the estate as part of the ‘rules of conduct’ around supernaturals. She didn’t need to act this way anymore, and she definitely didn’t want to appear cowardly. No one was above anybody else in this place. Even Hisa’s tone seemed to reinforce that idea; her voice was sweeter and more pleasant-sounding than Silver expected, though her accent—Japanese, by the sound of it—roughened up her words a little.
Relaxing her arms, Silver held her head high and stared at the vampire head-on, only to be confused once again. Hisa was wrapped in loose black clothing from head-to-toe, but the hood of the top part was on backwards, covering her face instead of her head. Her hands were also hidden in the sleeves and held up by her face.
The ridiculousness of her appearance momentarily eased Silver’s discomfort. “What the...?”
“I came to check on you,” Hisa said through the fabric. “I didn’t expect you to come this soon.”
Somehow, her voice sounded even smaller now, timid in a surprisingly youthful way. Silver was too curious to keep the question to herself.
“Can you even see through that?” she asked.
“Not much, no.”
“Then how did you know how I was standing?”
“I saw you before I put the hood on. So, are you okay?”
Her concern was surprising, but even more shocking was the fact that she was outside. The sun was gone, but the sky wasn’t completely dark yet. This much light was too low to kill a vampire, but it was sure to cause mild discomfort, at least.
“I’m fine, but,” Silver hesitated, “why didn’t you just send Trevor to check on me?”
“He’s resting.”
Her jaw dropped. “You let him sleep in your bed?”
“Sometimes, when he really needs it and asks to stay.” Silver had more questions, but Hisa cut her off before she could ask. “Look, do you want to stay out here, or can we go inside now?”
“Right, sorry, yeah, let’s go.”
The first thing that Hisa did was check on Trevor, who was indeed passed out on the bed. He stirred a little at her touch, but there was a content smile on his face. Hisa’s back was turned, but Silver saw her lift a finger to her mouth before gently bringing it down to Trevor’s neck. With a jolt, Silver realized that Hisa was healing the puncture wounds still visible on the human’s neck by putting her blood directly on them.
“Does that work better than making him drink your blood?” she hesitantly asked, curious in spite of herself.
“Direct feeding is the best method,” Hisa admitted, “but this way, the blood won’t stay in his system for very long.”
Silver frowned. Everything about this woman was so unusual compared to her personal experience with vampires. Back at the estate, even the ones who weren’t horrible to her treated her like a glorified family pet at best. And still, none of them ever asked if she was okay, much less interacted with her like an equal.
“I’m going to turn around now,” Hisa told her. “I can’t hide my eyes and fangs so soon after feeding, so don’t be shocked.”
Silver was indeed surprised, though not for the reason Hisa mentioned. “I thought only born vampires can hide these things.”
“I’ve been around a long time. I learned some things.”
Somehow, Silver sensed that was a huge understatement.
“Are you ready?”
Standing up straight, Silver mentally braced herself. She felt calm, but she briefly threw a glance toward the door, just in case. “Go for it.”
When Hisa turned around, Silver’s heart did give a jolt of fear. Though her mouth was closed to hide her fangs, her lips were tinted in a dark, bloodred color. Her hooded lids partially hid her eyes, but there was no mistaking the crimson rings around her irises. Despite that, her eyes held so much hesitation that Silver’s fear soon passed. The youthful undertone of Hisa’s voice was seemingly reinforced by her apparent age, which made her look like she wasn’t much older than Silver. There was also no trace of malice or arrogance in her expression. If anything, she seemed delicate and openly vulnerable, in a way. As though she was bracing herself for Silver’s inevitable lashing out and would be hurt by whatever came out.
Silver knew that feeling all too well. There was bravery behind expressing it so plainly, and that was something she had nothing but respect for. It was probably the only thing that could have overtaken her distrust.
Closing the distance between them, she held out a steady hand in greeting. Hisa’s eyes widened a fraction, but then her lips pulled up in a half-smile before she accepted the gesture.
CHAPTER FIVE
Adam
4 weeks after escape
His punishment began with isolation.
Normally, that would have driven him mad in no time, but Adam forced himself to stay focused. Meanwhile, he kept his body busy with as much exercise as he could stand, though that was hard to do without proper nutrition.
Then, he tried meditating to keep himself calm and his mind occupied. He counted the stones in his cell, played a mental game of Sudoku in the squares, and even visualized maze games like the ones he used to see on cereal boxes when he was little. Through it all, he kept planning, over and over, what he was going to do the second Lord Drake would show up.
When the vamphyr eventually came, however, Adam didn’t get the chance to do much.
The first time it happened, he’d been in the dungeons for several days and had lost track of time. Lord Drake caught him off guard in his sleep, but the purpose of the visit wasn’t to start conversation. He invaded Adam’s nightmares simply to sift through all his memories of Shiloh.
But the vamphyr was so furious and desperate for answers that he inadvertently let his thought process bleed over into Adam’s mind. Inadvertently, this gave the latter a glimpse into what had been going on at the estate for the past few days. When it was first discovered that Shiloh had escaped, Master was too preoccupied with getting her back to suspect anyone of helping her. But now that he’d lost her trail, there wasn’t much he could do, so he was taking it out on her old friends.
Apparently, Adam wasn’t the only one being questioned, though his interrogation was the most painful. Shauna had also been thrown in the dungeons for a day until it was discovered that she didn’t even know Shiloh was missing. A few others were questioned in Master’s private quarters, with Devon being the only one that submitted to it willingly, but nobody knew anything.
Obviously, Adam was just as clueless, but it was more personal with him, for some reason. Still, when Lord Drake couldn’t find anything useful in his mind, the interrogation stopped, and he walked away without having even set foot in the cell, leaving Adam alone on the floor, gasping for air.
It was several days before the vamphyr returned once again. Adam had barely slept during his absence, wanting to be awake the next time his mind was invaded. Unfortunately, he was unconscious anyway, as he’d only had a total of three meals since his punishment began and passed out from hunger and sheer fatigue.
This time, the mental invasion was clear-cut torture, and just like the first time, Lord Drake stayed out of Adam’s cell.
Vamphyrs had the power to make anyone feel anything they wanted, but the pain Master inflicted on him at that moment was unlike anything he’d ever felt. It assaulted him in ways he couldn’t have imagined, consuming him to the point of no longer being able to think of anything other than making it stop.
Adam was a blubbering mess by the end of it, unable to utter a simple plea. Screw his former realization about his own mortality; from that moment on, he very much wanted to die.
He didn’t know how long he cried for, but his eyes were swollen and puffy by the time his tears finally dried out. When he was able to think again, he found solace in reminding himself that all he needed was one opportunity, one chance to push Lord Drake over the edge, and then it would all be over.
Unfortunately, at the next visit, the vamphyr changed tactics and caught him off guard once again. Instead of inflicting physical pain, he made Adam relive some of the most terrible days of his life and intensified their emotional impact a hundred times over. It started with his mother’s illness, followed by all the dark times he went through at the estate, and culminated in the day Lord Benjamin’s vampires came for him and Claudia, leaving utter destruction in their wake.
After that, hours and days blended together into weeks. Adam felt like he was sinking into a bottomless sea where time was meaningless and no one existed other than himself.
Much to his despair, he resurfaced into awareness when someone force-fed him his next meal—he was too weak to see who it was, much less attempt to fight them off. But apparently, being a werewolf meant that his body didn’t need as much time or care to recover, since he felt physically better the next time he woke up. It was almost a shame that he couldn’t enjoy the benefits of having a supernatural body, but he didn’t appreciate the sneak peek.
Now that he was aware of his surroundings again, the dungeons reeked of mold and rotting food and urine and dozens of other odors, most of which he couldn’t find it in himself to put a name to. The ground he lay on was slimy and sticky, to say nothing of the horrid condition of his clothes and general person. There were no windows in the cell, and the only light came from the hole in the ground, which acted as a latrine but was smaller than a human fist, so it didn’t brighten the cell in any way. Then at night, Adam’s werewolf vision allowed him to see everything in a yellow-ish green tint.
At least he was spared from any sound input, considering the other cells had been empty for a while. Also, his sense of taste seemed to have gone too numb from lack of use to register anything other than the dryness in his mouth.
Adam broke down crying again.
Before, he wasn’t feeling anything, but being back to reality wasn’t so kind. He wished to return to that adrift state, but apparently the meal had come for a reason.
“Get up.”
The command was terse and abrupt, but the voice rang so sharply that it hurt his ears, making him jolt and cover his head protectively. He was so unused to any sound other than his own muffled sobs and noises.
“I said, get up,” the voice insisted, and it hurt less now that his ears were adjusting. “Sit up straight and look at me.”
To Adam’s bewilderment, the vamphyr wasn’t behind the door like the first few times he came, speaking through the latch as Adam expected him to. In fact, he was right there in the cell, standing just a few feet away. If he had any strength left in him, Adam might have lunged. But seeing Lord Drake standing over him like that brought his original plan back into focus.
After days—possibly weeks—of obsessing, Adam’s opportunity had finally come. His relief was overwhelming, and he couldn’t stop himself from letting out an involuntary sob. But if he wanted to find the right button to push to provoke the vamphyr, he couldn’t present himself as weak.
So he thought back to everything that supernaturals had put him through, allowing himself to feel the anger over everything they’d done and letting it wash over him.
“Fancy seeing you here, your lordship,” he said, then and there deciding that he would no longer refer to the vamphyr as Master. “To what do I owe the intense displeasure of your visit?”
“I came to talk,” the vamphyr responded, as calmly as if he was talking about the weather.
So much for that approach. “Really? Torture not working out for you anymore?”
“You’ve been punished sufficiently. It’s time to move forward.”
Well, if he was going to pretend to be pragmatic, Adam had no reason to hold back.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he spat out, partly asking a genuine question. “One minute, you say you’re ‘committed to improving the lives of supernaturals’, but then you go around and you turn me against my will!”
Something akin to regret flashed on the vamphyr’s face, but it didn’t linger. “I was going to leave the choice up to you. But the current circumstances being what they are, I had to recruit reliable people to get Shiloh back.”
“You’re seriously delusional, you know that? You get a kick out of tormenting me to the brink of death and still think I’m going to work for you?”
His eyes flashed dangerously. “I do not take pleasure in inflicting pain.”
“Says the guy who’s been torturing me for days!”
“Because you should have noticed!” he roared. “You should have stopped her!”
Adam had no snide response.
Even before he was forcibly turned, as soon as he heard that Shiloh was gone, he’d wondered how he could have missed the signs. How could he not know that she was planning something? In her last few days at the estate, she’d been spending practically all of her time with him. If she’d been formulating some plan the whole time, he should have picked up on either nervousness or anticipation from her.
But there’d been nothing out of the ordinary.
The only conclusion he could come to was that she hadn’t planned anything at all, that it had been a spur of the moment decision, and she got lucky that it worked, somehow. Besides, if he’d known, he would have tried to go with her, not stop her.
Lord Drake sighed to release some of his anger, and he sounded tired when he said, “You have no idea the things I’ve had to endure to get to where I am. I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy.”
