His one eye turns cold and lands on me once again, and a sinister smile crawls across his face. I thought Slade looked evil… Victor makes him look like a saint. Distorted and crazy as it was, at least Slade had a reason to want me dead. Victor was around most of my life, yet he has guns trained on me.
“Little Leah finally did something right.”
He nods toward a guy who grabs me and shoves me hard into another guy. Before I can even figure out what’s going on, metal cuffs are being slapped on my wrists, and the blunt barrel of a gun is getting shoved against my back.
I move forward, letting them take me away. My plan is wrecked, but it can still work… Hopefully.
My footfalls echo down the steps, and I fight really damn hard not to let my eyes light up so that I can see in the dark. So far, it doesn’t seem like anyone else can see right through me.
At least that part of my plan is working out.
I’m not panicking, so there’s no reason for Zee to feel me or sense me. It’s a task to not panic, considering all the mind-boggling revelations and confessions.
It’s so dark that I can barely see when they toss me into what looks like a jail cell, still shackled like a prisoner in transport. One of them shoves me too hard, and I stumble in with too much force, landing hard on my knees.
Someone laughs and makes a few crass comments about my
ass, and they all chuckle like idiots on their way back out as the door slams shut on my cell. A low, flickering light slowly starts to build energy, gradually lighting the room enough to see.
My eyes immediately fall on the one person next to me who is staring at me with nothing but pure, horrified shock.
Dirt mattes her hair, her body is filthy, and she smells like she’s been down here for weeks. Her cracked lips are dry and parted in surprise, and her look turns from horror to sadness.
“Aunt Masie,” I whisper in a choked, strained tone.
Her shackles rattle as she weakly covers her mouth with one hand, and she stares at me like she wishes she could cry. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen her cry either.
“What are you doing in here?” she asks, even though she looks like she’s about to fall out.
“What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing here?”
She grabs her dirty hair and pulls at it. “No! He’s not supposed to get you. You didn’t turn. He doesn’t need you!”
She keeps repeating that over and over, and I shush her, trying to get her to shut up before they hear her and come to silence her themselves.
“Aunt Masie!” I bark, and to my surprise, she shuts up almost instantly, even though she’s whimpering without tears. “I’m here to find the children. Where are they?”
Her looks sobers as her brow furrows.
“You came here on purpose?” she hisses, trying to hobble up to her feet.
“Yes. I have a plan, but I need to find the children first. Are they here?”
“No,” she says hoarsely. “You can get out? Go. I’ll find a way to help the children.”
Rolling my eyes, I try to shake the bars, but they’re not exactly flimsy.
“The marks on the cuffs,” my aunt says, pointing to them, “they’re warded against our power. Do you have power?”
More than she knows…
“Yes. I just… Why can I walk through seals but not escape cuffs?” I groan.
“Side effects of the hex,” she says on a sigh. “We once couldn’t be restrained or locked out. After the hex, chains warded against us worked. There are so many contradictory side effects of that damn thing. Some are good, some not so much. Victor cannot know more than he already does, or you’re dead.”
I don’t know or care what she’s talking about. I’m too busy trying to bust out.
It’s not working, even though I’m not just a damn anointed now. “Where are the kids?” I ask again, giving up the endeavor to break the bars.