“With the amount of blood I’ve lost, I suppose I wouldn’t be too discerning,” he said glibly. “Lean a little closer, and we can find out.”

I pictured it, at his words. Tipping forward, his fangs sinking into me.

Blood and blood and—

I wanted to vomit. I slammed the salve’s lid shut. I had mostly finished, but even if I’d barely started, I was at my limit. Let Nelson send me to the toilets for a month. It’d be better than spending another second in this cell.

I backed away, sticking as close to the wall as possible as I left.

“Before you go. Look at me.”

His words shouldn’t have stopped me, but the vampire’s voice was pure command. I obeyed before I even had a chance to think it through.

I hadn’t let myself look into his eyes since I’d first walked into the cell. Despite the fact his back was ripped open, he stood tall, proud. His chest was bare, and though the front was bruised as well, it did nothing to hide the definition of his muscles. He had a warrior’s body. Odd, for such a parasitic creature. His face, though. Even bloody and bruised it could only be called beautiful. It wasn’t a gentle, regal beauty. It was a ruthless kind that, if anything, was enhanced by the cuts on it. His jawline was sharp, casting a shadow over his neck in the torchlight. His brows were stark white, matching his hair.

His red eyes snared me.

“Let me out of my chains.”

Unlike his commanding tone, this he spoke in the same soothing tone he’d used before.

Did he think I was insane?

That’s what I got for daring to speak with a vampire.

“No.”

His brows rose, as if surprised.

“Unlock my chains.” The commanding tone returned, promising violence if I didn’t obey.

This time I didn’t answer. I quickly gathered my supplies and turned towards the exit.

“Free me from my chains, and I’ll let you escape with me,” he hissed at my back.

I slammed the cell door shut behind me.

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Chapter Three

I barely slept. By the time I got back to one of my sleeping spots—it wasn’t good to stay in the same place too many nights in a row—it was hardly three hours until I needed to be awake. As usual, I fell asleep quickly. No matter what kind of day I had, I couldn’t afford to skip a chance to sleep.

But my dreams were haunted by unnerving red eyes.

Greymere was quiet when I finally woke. My morning routine consisted of tucking away the one threadbare blanket I’d managed to keep from the others for the past year. It also meant I was nowhere near the warmth of the kitchen.

The cold stone of the prison floor always left me sore, even after all these years. My back ached. My shoulders were tight. Grooming amounted to little more than cracking my neck and running my fingers through my hair to clear out some cobwebs.

The hollow hunger was a frequent companion. There was no point trekking over to the kitchen for breakfast. If I tried to get some when it was fresh, I inevitably got elbowed away, delayed from starting my chores—which got me in trouble—and usually didn’t even succeed.

I was scrawny. I couldn’t elbow back. It was better to keep my head down and stay away, so that’s what I did.

I didn’t have time to waste. At least the witch prisoners had the luxury of sleeping in. I wasn’t so lucky. Voids convicted of crimes unlucky enough to be sent to Greymere didn’t sit in cells—they served. Born without magic, we were the only ones who could physically tolerate working in Greymere. No void volunteered to live without the comforts magic offered. The witches weren’t the only prisoners here.

I set off to check my rat traps.

I’d devised the traps from pieces of half-rotted wood, some spare twine, and metal scraps. They would’ve worked leagues better if I had any food to bait the rats with. Without, I caught at most three on a good day.

I’d gone to Nelson when I’d devised the first prototype. I was young then, maybe nine years old. I’d cast Nelson into the role of a guide, a leader. I’d thought he might be proud of me.

Instead, he snatched the prototype from my tiny hands and threw it on the floor, crushing it under his foot. Of course, that just set off the trap, catching his foot. He yowled, and I’d been so surprised I had actually laughed.

He beat me after that. And I learned not to ask Nelson—not to ask anyone—for anything.

Today, the first trap I checked actually had a rat. I made quick work of it, snapping its neck with practiced ease. It should’ve been a fortuitous start to the day.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

To start, aside from the first, the rats were harder to find than usual. The screams of the prisoners resumed, amplified when the whipping began. The halls of Greymere must’ve been engineered to carry sound especially easily, because no matter where I went, I couldn’t escape it. It wasn’t that the screaming was so unusual. After all these years, I could normally ignore it.

But not today. Instead, one question ricocheted back and forth over and over.

Was he screaming?

I couldn’t picture it. Even when he tried to order me to release him, his voice had barely risen above its low purr.

Did he really think I would throw everything away to help him?

Perhaps he was simply desperate to escape his fate. They were whipping him. That, I didn’t doubt. The wounds on his back would be barely sealed with the salve. A single stroke would tear apart any healing that had come from last night. Could you kill a vampire that way?

Why even capture a vampire? In all my years at the prison, I’d never seen one. All I had seen was every manner of witch be driven mad.

If he doesn’t die, will he go mad too?

“Look who finally decided to show up.”

I stiffened at Nelson’s voice, cursing the vampire for dominating my thoughts so completely I’d failed in my main task.

My official job was to find the rats. The real one? To avoid Nelson by any means necessary.

I couldn’t say what Nelson did during the day, except that it seemed to be the same thing he did during the evenings: make everyone around him miserable. The air soured from the scent of alcohol on his breath. Nelson had gotten his hands on some spirits. That always made for a worse encounter.

He saw the rat in my hands and snatched it from me. I forced my fingers to loosen, letting him take it.

He lifted it, testing the weight.

“Scrawny.” He gave me a look. Did he want me to seem impressed at his powers of observation? We were coming out of winter. All of us were starving. “You’ll need to find more. Fatter ones.”

“There aren’t any more. They’re all scared of the damned bloodsucker!”

The words flew from my mouth before I could stop them. For a moment, we just stared at each other. When was the last time I’d talked back to Nelson?

“Oh yes, the bloodsucker you spent the evening with. The guards have been busy with him again today. Maybe you should pay another visit to him tonight.” He gave me a meaningful look.

This time I said nothing. I forced myself to lower my eyes. I didn’t need another sleepless night. Nothing could be worse than another evening in the cell with that awful creature.

He tightened his grip around the carcass. “I’ll take this for my luncheon. Maybe it’ll make you realize you can’t slack off under my watch.”

A whole rat for himself. My entire morning’s work.

I bit down on my tongue so hard it bled. Nelson turned, and I should’ve been relieved it wasn’t worse. Instead, anger rolled through me. Indignation. Feelings I’d do well to forget.

“It’s not forever.”

I meant the refrain to comfort myself, but Nelson heard it even over the choir of screams that rolled down the hall.