Concentrating, I try to use my magic. When that doesn’t work, I scream in frustration.
Still, no one answers me. Even the spirits are silent now.
With fisted hands, I beat on the door and call for help.
Minutes pass. Maybe longer.
My headache makes it hard to think past my worry for the twins.
Several times, I try to use my magic to open the door or call for Genevieve, but nothing works. I wonder if there’s something about this room keeping them out just as much as it keeps me in.
Panic claws at me, and I know I have to do something. I can sense a danger to what comes next. Something terrible is coming, something even more awful than what I’ve seen here already. But, try as I might, I can’t so much as summon a spark of flame to fight back.
On the other side of the door, footsteps approach. When the lock clicks free, my breath hitches and I think I’ve finally done it. But then the knob turns and the door opens to show Cutter standing before me—and I realize it isn’t my magic at all.
With one look at his expression, I know he’s come to collect me.
Beyond him, the hall is empty.
As if whatever spell that blocked them has been lifted, ghostly figures appear in larger numbers than I’ve seen so far. They are frantic—pushing, shoving, and pleading. Tears of blood run from their eyes as they scream and urge for me to get away.
Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrun.
CourezcourezcourezcourezcourezCourircourircourircourircourir.
correcorrecorrecorrecorre.
I feel the words in my head, playing on a terrified loop in multiple languages at once, and the hair on my arms stand on end. I can't run. There's nowhere to go, but the voices don't care. They want me to leave. Before I end up like them.
“I hear you’ve had quite the ordeal, Celeste. Are you all right?”
This is the first time I’ve seen him since he killed Maria. All I can see when I look at him is her heart clutched in his bloody hands. All I can think is that mine will be next.
“Of course I’m not all right,” I snap. “You tried to kill me.” But my accusation lacks bite in the wake of my own fear.
“I tried to appeal to your most basic instincts,” he says, as if his intentions will change my mind about him. “You’ve been denying this part of yourself for so long, you’ve cut yourself off from your true power. But all of that will change now. Please. Come. We have work to do.”
He walks away, and I remain frozen, thoughts racing. If I refuse to accompany him, he’ll most likely force me anyway, but still, I can’t willingly walk to my own death. And I’m pretty sure that’s how all this ends.
“Celeste,” Cutter prods.
Still, I don’t yield.
Another figure steps into the open doorway and I shudder.
Sir watches me with an expectant look.
I swallow hard.
“Sir, if Celeste needs assistance, please provide it,” Cutter calls back.
I don’t hesitate before hurrying past Sir and down the hall to where Cutter has paused to wait.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To draw on your true power,” he calls back. “To make you into what you truly are. And to make me, too.”
19
Fear coils like a snake in my gut.
“What does that mean?” I demand, but Cutter doesn't answer, he just keeps walking.
I can only imagine the new experiments the mad scientist has devised for me. And I know I'm walking a razor's edge trying to play his game while also trying to find a way to beat him at it. Logan’s promise runs on a loop in my head. We have to find a way out. Before all of this goes too far.
Hallways. Hallways. Hallways.
When I get out of here, I am going to live in a house without hallways. This I vow.
With Sir at my back, spurring me onward, we walk down more flights of stairs than I thought possible of this place. Past the dungeons. Past the torture room Nurse Schmidt has used on me thus far. I get the distinct sense that the lower we go, the worse things will get.
We are descending into the ninth circle of hell. What fresh torture awaits? The anticipation is killing me.
The chill in the air takes on a frigidness that causes my breath to frost with each exhale, and I shiver and cross my arms over my chest to hold in my own warmth.
Finally, we exit the stairwell and enter a large room with dirt walls stained in what I suspect is blood. The space, the energy it pulses with, is merciless to behold. If spaces have souls, this one is blackened to the core. It's dark, and I can't see into the corners. Only the center has any kind of lighting, a single bulb that hangs from the cavernous ceiling, illuminating two chairs facing each other. Between the chairs is a metal table that holds what looks like a covered bird cage with four clear thin tubes coming out of it and spanning the length of the room.
But that's not what concerns me at the moment.
My attention is drawn to the chairs, one of which has leather straps fastened to the arm rests and handcuffs attached to the legs.
In a bold attempt to subvert expectation, I rush ahead of him and take the chair without the restraints, sitting quickly as Sir leaves the room, the door clicking behind him.
Cutter raises an eyebrow, and then surprises me by taking the other chair without argument. Score one for me, maybe. Or this is all a test.
My bet is on the latter, which deflates my momentary victory like a popped balloon.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks, and it’s so damnably polite, I have to resist the urge to scream.
I’m in a cold, dank dungeon. Held against my will by a century-old vampire whose only goal is to steal my essence, or maybe even my very life. And he’s offering me refreshments.
“How about freedom?” I snap.
“All right,” he says, surprising the hell out of me.
“What?”
“You can have your freedom. After today, I will have no more need of you anyway.”
His words, the way he dismisses this entire nightmare, carry a dark sense of foreboding, but I press ahead.
“And my sister. And the twins,” I say, stopping short before I add Logan’s name to the list. I don’t want to show my whole hand too soon, or put Logan in danger. “I want their freedom, too.”
“Of course. All of you will be free to go. We only have one last test to conduct and then this can all be over.”
He’s lying.
Or keeping something from me.
I have to know.
“I won’t help you make yourself into a monster.”
He looks intrigued at my words. Head tilting, he says, “Is that what you believe yourself to be?”
“What I am is not yours,” I tell him.
“On the contrary, when I am finished, your power will belong solely to me.” He smiles. “And then you will be free.”
“None of this will bring Genevieve back,” I say, and his expression contorts. His eyes narrow and I realize too late I’ve only made things worse.
“She has spoken to you. I guessed as much.”
His voice is quiet now, deadly calm. Lethal.
I watch him warily.
“She showed me what you did,” I say. “What you’ve done to every woman in my family since.”
His eyes glitter with a malice that is only barely contained. “As you might have guessed, this is so much bigger than just saving your sister. It is also much more important than even my beloved Genevieve.” He pins me with a look that makes me shiver with the violence it promises. “This is about me becoming the powerful creature I was meant to be. When I’m done, every human, vampire, witch, and werewolf will bow. And the ones who don’t will pay.”