It was about the size of a hotel room, a good three hundred square feet or so. Tile covered the floors, cold under my bare feet. I had no idea where my shoes were. There was a double bed tucked up against the wall, a tiny end table beside it, a dresser, and a TV mounted on the wall at the foot of the bed. In the ceiling were the fearsome black dots of pain, but there were no water hoses in the room.
And there was a door across from the bed.
Padding to it, I placed the tips of my fingers on the door and cautiously pushed it open, half expecting a net made of onyx to drop on me.
It didn’t.
Inside was a small bathroom with another door at the end. That one was locked.
I wheeled around and went back into the bedroom.
The trip to my cell hadn’t been scenic. We’d walked straight out of the room I’d woken up in and into an elevator that had opened straight across from where I was now. I hadn’t really even gotten a chance to look down the hallway to see how many rooms there were like the one I was in now.
I bet there were a lot.
Having no idea what time it was, if it were night or day, I shuffled over to the bed and pulled down the brown blanket. I sat and pressed my back against the wall, tucking my legs against my chest. I tugged the blanket to my chin and sat facing the door.
I was tired—weary to my very core. My eyes were heavy, and my body ached from the effort to sit up, but the idea of falling asleep scared the ever-loving crap out of me. What if someone came into the room while I slept? That was a very real concern. The door locked from the outside, meaning I was completely at their whim.
To keep myself from dozing off, I focused on the one thousand questions circling in my head. Dr. Roth had made that cloak-and-dagger statement about the Luxen being behind the war that had started God knew how long ago. Even if they had been, did it matter now? I didn’t think it did. Not when this generation of Luxen was so far removed from what their ancestors might’ve plotted. I honestly didn’t even understand why he had brought it up. To show how little I knew? Or was there something more? And what about Bethany? Was she really dangerous?
I shook my head. Even if the Luxen started a war hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago, that didn’t mean they were evil. And if Bethany was dangerous, it probably had something to do with what they had done to her. I wasn’t going to let them pull me into their lies, but I had to admit, what they had said unnerved me.
My brain mulled over more questions. How long were they planning to keep me here? What about school? My mom? I thought of Carissa. Had she been brought to a place like this? I still had no idea how she’d ended up mutated, or why. Luc, the ridiculously intelligent and even a bit scary teen hybrid, had helped us get into Mount Weather and had warned that I may never know what happened to Carissa. I wasn’t sure I could live with that. Never knowing why she ended up in my bedroom and self-destructed wasn’t right. And if I ended up like her, or like the countless other hybrids the government kidnapped, what would happen to my mom?
With no answers to any of those questions, I finally let my mind go where it wanted, where I’d been desperately trying to prevent it from going.
Daemon.
My eyes fell shut as I exhaled. I didn’t even have to try to see him. His face pieced together perfectly.
His broad cheekbones, lips that were full and almost always expressive, and those eyes—those beautiful green eyes that were like two polished emeralds, abnormally bright. I knew my memory really didn’t do him justice. He had this masculine beauty I’d never seen before in real life, had only read about in the books I loved.
Man, I missed books already.
In his true form, Daemon was extraordinary. All of the Luxen were breathtakingly beautiful; being made of pure light, they were mesmerizing to look upon, like seeing a star up close.
Daemon Black could be as prickly as a hedgehog having a really bad day, but underneath all that spindly armor, he was sweet, protective, and incredibly selfless. He’d dedicated most of his life to keeping his family and his kind safe, continually facing danger with little thought to his own safety. I was in constant awe of him. Though it hadn’t always been like that.
A tear dripped down my cheek unbidden.
Resting my chin against my knees, I swiped at the wetness. I prayed that he was okay—as okay as he could be. That Matthew, Dawson, and Andrew were keeping a tight leash on him. That they wouldn’t let him do what I knew he wanted to: the same thing I’d do if the situation were flipped.
Although I wanted him—needed him—to hold me, this was the last place I wanted him to be. The very last place.
Heart aching, I tried thinking about the good things—better things—but the memories weren’t enough. There was a strong chance I might never see him again.
The tears slipped out of my tightly squeezed eyes.
Crying solved nothing, but it was hard to hold it in when exhaustion dogged me. I kept my eyes closed, slowly counting until the knot of messy, raw emotions climbed back down my throat.
The next thing I knew, I jolted awake, my heart pounding and mouth dry. I hadn’t remembered falling asleep, but I must’ve. A weird tingle moved over my skin as I dragged in a deep breath. Did I have a nightmare? I couldn’t remember, but something felt off. Disoriented, I threw the blanket back and looked around the dark cell.
Every muscle in my body seized as my eyes picked out a darker, thicker shadow in the corner by the door. Tiny hairs on my body rose. Air halted in my lungs, and fear sunk its icy claws into my stomach, freezing me in place.
I wasn’t alone.
The shadow pulled away from the wall, moving forward quickly. My first instinct screamed Arum, and I reached blindly for the opal necklace, realizing too late I didn’t have it anymore.