Chapter 11 · The Empty Cell

The guards don't drag us far.

Just down a spiral staircase I didn't know existed, through a door that looks like part of the wall, and into a corridor that smells like wet stone and old blood. My wrists are zip-tied behind my back. Lucas is in front of me, silent, and I can feel the blood bond humming between us like a live wire.

He's angry. No—he's furious. But not at me.

The pull is stronger now. It's dragging me forward, deeper into the dark, and I know—I know—my brother is down here. Somewhere. Close.

The guards shove us into a cell at the end of the corridor. Iron bars. Stone floor. A single torch on the wall outside. One of them cuts my zip-tie, then Lucas's, and slams the door shut. The lock clicks.

"Enjoy your last few hours," the taller one says. He's got a scar across his throat. Probably a werewolf who pissed off the wrong vampire. "Dawn's in four hours. Cyrus likes to watch the executions himself."

They leave.

I wait until their footsteps fade. Then I turn to Lucas.

"My brother's here.