Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I glared at him and spat on the floor just shy of his feet. “Do your worst, you lanky bastard.”
He reared up at the insult, but the old lady placed a hand on his chest, her sharp eyes gleaming in something akin to amusement. “My name is McCallister, but you can call me Mack. Remember the name. I’ll be the one you come begging to when the rest of the vultures in this place have sliced off a piece of you.”
Her threat had me dying to utter my father’s name. He was notorious among vampires, both feared and awed in equal measures. He was the sun walker, the only one who could traverse the world without fearing being harmed by daylight.
At that, I realised Mack and her cronies had kept to the shaded areas of the prison. It was late in the day, but a few tendrils of light still shone through the building’s narrow windows. Night was quickly falling, though, and soon, there would be no areas they had to avoid. My gut sank because the fading daylight was the only thing that kept me one step ahead of those arseholes. They’d had to avoid it in their chase.
Now, though, the dark was descending, and I could go nowhere to escape them.
A vampire with long black hair pushed me back against the railing. She fisted the front of my jumpsuit, her sharp fangs gleaming as they descended. My hand shot out, ramming her in the elbow as I spun away from her, but another three penned me in. I punched one in the shoulder and kicked another in the shin, focusing on whatever weak spots I could reach, but it was no use. I was outnumbered with no way to escape. That didn’t mean I wasn’t prepared to fight tooth and nail for my survival.
Where was the warden who was supposed to be keeping watch over me? Perhaps he hadn’t anticipated I’d be killed within a few minutes of encountering the other prisoners.
I continued fighting, but soon, I felt the sharp sting of a vampire bite, then another and another. Dhampir blood wasn’t appetising to vampires, but they drank from me nonetheless. They wanted to diminish me, take from me until I was nothing but a weakened shell with no fight left. Mack had been right. One way or another, I would pay her tax, and I was paying it in the form of my blood.
“Hey, that’s enough! You’ll kill her,” a voice broke through the fog. I was vaguely aware of the vampires backing away. Someone picked me up, and I blinked away the foggy sensation of blood loss to see a bald head and a dark goatee. Serg. The tattoo artist had come to my rescue, and I knew at that moment that I owed him because those vampires had no intention of stopping until I was dead.
***
When I came to, my head felt like a tonne of bricks had fallen on it. Every part of my body was weak. I blinked, taking in my surroundings. I was in a small cell. The walls were stone, and the door consisted of metal bars penning me in. I lay on a narrow cot with a lone sink and toilet in the corner. Behind the cot was a thin, barred window through which muted rays of blessed morning light shone.
At least for the time being, Mack and her vampires would be asleep. I had a day of escape from them, but it wouldn’t be long enough for my body to recover, even with my accelerated dhampir healing.
Wait, someone had carried me there. I recalled Serg appearing and putting an end to the attack. How on earth would I repay him? I had a feeling you didn’t get rescued in the Prison of Thorns without paying the price for it.
I tried to sit, but my head screamed in agony. I reached up, sifted my hand through my hair, and found thick strands matted together with dried blood. I continued inspecting and discovered a bald patch where the tall vampire had yanked on my hair. Emotion clogged my throat. For all my self-defence training, I’d never been so badly beaten.
My red jumpsuit was stained with patches of dark blood where the vampires had bitten me. I counted the bites, and there were seven in total. They’d healed up a little, but because the vampires had drained my blood, my healing powers were slower than they would be otherwise.
“What happened to you?” someone asked, and I fought a grimace.
Belinda was once again paying me a visit. As if I wasn’t already suffering enough.
“Some kind of prison initiation ceremony,” I replied humourlessly as I made a second, more successful attempt to sit up. The room spun a little as I inventoried my injuries.
“Well, you look terrible.”