Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Melody stands silent as I go through every stage of grief then circle back to self-loathing and fear. She’s never been in my room like this, at least not when I’ve been awake.
“Why are you here?”
“I was instructed to make sure you eat something.” She gestures to the tray.
“By Valen?”
She nods.
I suppose he doesn’t want his pet going on a hunger strike, or worse, dying before he gets his precious information. “If I eat, you’ll leave?”
Another nod.
I drag the tray toward me and open the lid. True to her word, there’s toast, plain white rice, and an ice water.
“Is there anything else that would help you recover?” she asks.
Yes. An IV with fluids. Maybe some Pepto. But I’ll be damned if I ask her for anything. Silently, I take a bite of toast, then wash it down with water.
“There.” I glance at her. “I ate.”
With a nod, she turns and leaves, closing the door silently behind her.
As soon as she’s gone, I rub the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. The itch of unshed tears, the unbridled rage at being turned into a puppet yet again. I’m broken in myriad ways, but I still feel. Every emotion, every hurt—I feel all of them like they’re fresh. It’s the worst part of all of this. My emotions. All of them raw. All of them impotent.
It’s been two days since the interrogation. I’m finally on my feet again, my mind recovered enough that I can creep down the hallways without jumping at my own shadow. I’ve run across Gorsky a few times, though I’ve immediately turned and gone the other way the moment I saw him. Maybe my isolation isn’t healthy, but spending another second with him isn’t either.
I’ve ventured down another level, labeling each in my mind. The top where my room is, I call “Bedroom Alley,” the next lower one is “Piano Bay,” and lower than that is where I’m exploring now. This is where my investigation will end, because the thought of going down to the room with the green flame fireplace is enough to turn my stomach.
I even found a ballroom on the piano level, the black walls high and wide. Hundreds of people could fit in there with room to spare. The silence gave it an eerie feeling as I hurried to the next set of adjoining doors.
It doesn’t matter where I go, I feel like I’m being watched. I don’t know if it’s paranoia or wisdom that gives me that sensation. Either way, I’m careful to always peek around corners and listen at doors. For being an enormous underground manor, the inhabitants are sparse. I haven’t seen anyone save for Melody and Gorsky. Valen hasn’t accosted me since the interrogation. I’d prefer he kept it that way.
The hallway on this level is a bit wider than those above, the ceilings rougher, the stone even darker. All the pomp of the upper levels seems to have missed this floor, and I hesitate as I start down the center corridor. The air is damp here, an icy chill whispering across my skin. I pull my makeshift shawl—a blanket from my closet—tighter around my shoulders and venture deeper.
My breath fogs out, the silence eating whatever sounds I make as I pad along in the gloom. Despite being closer overhead, the lights are dim, and some are out entirely, leaving patches of pitch between one faintly glowing oasis and another. There are no doors here, only stone.
I continue, my sense of being somewhere I shouldn’t increasing with each step. Even so, I force myself forward, searching for something. For anything. For a way out.
The hallway begins to narrow and makes several turns, a labyrinth that has me worried about losing my way. But there aren’t options, only a steady advance toward whatever lies at the end, to the minotaur waiting in the depths.
Goose bumps rise along the back of my neck, and I shiver as I come to another sharp corner. I peek around it, but the way ahead is dark. Far darker than anything in the tunnel at my back. It’s as if the light has been swallowed, siphoned down into some black hole.
I peer into the opaque shadow, my eyes straining to pick out the barest hint of detail. There’s nothing. It could be a blank wall or a pit deeper than the sea. I have no idea.
“Shit,” I murmur under my breath.
The walls take the sound and bounce it around until it, too, disappears into the black. It doesn’t come back to me after that.
“This isn’t a place for you.”
I yelp and spin, then lose my footing.
Valen grips my upper arms and holds me upright, the tips of his fangs glinting in the low light. “You don’t know what’s hiding in the dark.”
I swallow hard as he puts me back on my feet. But he doesn’t let me go.