Page 95 of Shifting Tides
Anger bubbled in my chest like boiling water, threatening to spill over.
Calm yourself, Alice’s thoughts surfaced just before I was about to strike out at Marguerite, cooling the brewing tempest of rage.She’s desperate for any kind of emotion from you. Beyond blood, feeding off emotion is the passion of vampires.You saw what happened last time. Do not give her that control again.
My breathing slowed at the very sound of her voice in my head. It was so clear, so tangible, like she was standing right next to me. And she was completely right.
“If you don’t mind, I have a punishment to get to,” I said, moving past her.
At the last minute, she grabbed my arm firmly, stopping my progression toward the stairs that led to the dungeons below.
She stepped close, bringing her cold lips to my ear.
“I don’t want to see what Hadrian does to you down there,” she whispered, her tone serious for once. “But whatever torment he puts you through, I want you to know I don’t agree with it. If you survive, I will be here to help you recover.”
I jerked my arm from her hold and continued on.
“Don’t worry about me,” I called as I walked to the top of the stairs. “If I live, I’ll recover just fine on my own. If I die? Well, you can start looking for others to promise your undying, eternal love to.”Actually, you should do that whether I live or die.
I took two stairs at a time. It wasn’t that I was excited for what I was about to go through, just more than eager to get away from Marguerite. And I just wanted to get this ordeal over with.
The dark stone stairway was lined with muted lights embedded in the walls. Long ago, when the fortress was built, the vampire originators had relied on torches. Those had long since been replaced. Hadrian was a firm believer of finding and utilizing new technology as much as possible.
Following the half circle, I jogged past the opening that led to the first lower level. Heritage Prep was a massive place andfar more than just a school. Hadrian’s legion of vampires were housed in the same place, and the higher up the ranks individual vampires became, the higher up in the towers they resided.
The lower levels were living quarters and classrooms for Initiates—humans desiring to become vampires. Some of them were the children of the vampires living here, waiting to be turned, and others were willing volunteers. Hadrian himself had been a human Initiate—at least until he’d come of age—but he’d been bred for a much grander purpose.
Hadrian’s lineage was the oldest of vampire nobility, going back thousands of years. Each successive male vampire in his bloodline would mate with a human girl every fifty years to produce a male heir. The strength and abilities compounded with each generation gave Hadrian powers unlike any other vampire.
My shoes tapped against the stairs as I continued my descent, echoing in my ears and bouncing off the walls in either direction. I was surprised I didn’t run into any humans or vampires along the way.
Five levels down, the stairs finally ended, opening into a wide chamber that held a damp and musty smell. I had rarely ventured down to the dungeons during my time working with Hadrian, and now I remembered why.
There were dirty cages lining the walls, their iron bars painted black. Most of them were empty, but I discovered that a few held humans who were suffering from their own punishments. They made no sounds. There were several vampire guards around who were strictly there to stop any whimpering or begging.
One of the guards saw me and approached me.
“Well, well, well,” the short, stocky vampire sneered, looking up his nose at me, which really defeated the purpose. “Look, fellas. Julian Asher really has come back.”
The other guards turned their attention to me, and I recognized a few of them. I definitely knew the one who was now posturing in front of me, tapping a metal club against his hand. The dungeon keeper had a receding hairline, and his spiky-gelled white hair shot out at random points.
“Hello, Rory,” I said. “I see that some things never change. Like your status.”
The guard’s sneer disappeared, replaced with a wicked glare that I had seen on multiple occasions.
Rory pointed his club at me. “We’ll see how snappy you are after Hadrian’s through with you.”
“I can hardly wait for the party,” I deadpanned. “Where is Hadrian?”
Scowling, Rory twisted about and pointed in the opposite direction. “Thataway. Past the next room of cages. Madness Chamber.”
A shock of worry made me flinch at the mention of the torture room, the nickname bringing back memories. It was one room I’d never actually been to, but I’d heard the screams coming from it more times than I cared to remember.
“That excited, are you?”
I steeled myself. “I was simply worried my punishment was going to be a lot worse: having to report to you down here for the next month. I’d rather be stabbed in the chest by a copper pole.”
Rory moved with superhuman speed, swinging the club straight at my face. My rapid reflexes moved on instinct, and I caught the top of the bludgeoning weapon with my hand, matching the strength of the dungeon keeper, holding the club above both of our heads.
Rory gritted his teeth at the strain. “You never were one of us. And you never will be.”
