Dark Horizons (The Red Sector Chronicles) (6 page)

Frost didn’t have to say anything. The cold, guarded look in her eyes as she squeezed her lips shut, trying to suppress a triumphant smile, said everything.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Paris’
s
face was grim, and Aden stood nearby, a stony
look in his eyes
.

My
gaze rested on a golden plaq
ue I hadn’t noticed before, hanging directly on Frost’s podium. A saying wa
s engraved on it: “Protect the emperor; protect the e
mpire.”

I stared at it, my mind working around those words. The memory of the enraged citizens outside – Nero’s people – came back to me
in stark clarity. They
obviously loved Nero. If that was just a small dose of the vampire population, how would the rest of them react to finding out their emperor – the man who had given them a home and an identity to be proud of – had been shot?

Once a few seconds of tense silence had passed,
Frost said, “Get them out of my sight.”

“Stop.”

Every head swiveled to Mrs. Knight, who
now
stood. “I’d like to barter for the placement of my son.”

I thought Frost’s head was going to explode. “If you’re wanting to take him home, you can forget about it.”

“Not home,” she said, h
er soft voice strong, “but here, u
pstairs in the medical wing, where they can monitor his health.”

Several of the c
ouncil members who were clearly on Frost’s side of having us executed murmured their disagreement, but
Mrs. Knight
went on. “He can remain cuffed even.” It was harder for her to say that. “But virus or not, clearly there is something wrong with him.” She turned, sweeping the room with her gaze. “I’m begging you as a mother, not as a Council member. Please, allow me this one solace.” “Since yo
u’re thinking
about
killing my son” her tone seemed to say,
but she kept her mouth shut after that.

Her request
seemed to work. Several of the men and women who looked on the verge of arguing with her before gazed at her with understanding.
Maybe they had kids of their own.

Seeing she was defeated yet again, Frost curled her hands into fists, making her knuckles stick out under
her
skin. “Very well,” she said coolly. “He may remain under medical supervision.”

“If I may,” Paris said, raising her voice to be heard, “I think I should be the one to watch over him.”

Mrs. Knight’s expression brightened, suggesting she felt the same, but Frost immediately pursed her lips. “Absolutely not. Do you think you’re the only qualified physician in this facility, Dr. De Lange?”

Paris’
s
glare could melt flesh. “No.”

“Then you are
to
keep your mouth shut
,
and join Sergeant McAllister in the dungeons.”

My heart sank,
and
then something occurred to me, filling me with fragile hope. According to Paris, Orion was being held prisoner in the dungeons. And since she needed to collect a blood sample anyway…

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” I said, giving Paris a pointed look. She made a face, and then recognition dawned in her
eyes. S
he pressed her lips shut, nodding once.

Seeming satisfied, Frost leaned back in her seat, waiting for us to be escorted out.

As they
took
Paris and me away, I glanced over my shoulder.

Aden was staring back at me, something warring in his blue eyes. Time seemed to slow, like those precious few seconds were the last memory I would ever have of him.

Then we turned a corner
and Aden disappeared from view.

***

Rook didn’t say anything to me as he led the way down into the lowest level, where the dungeons were. The base
was
tiered like an inverted pyramid, with the dungeons being
on the bottom level; higher up
were
the medical labs, followed by the hospital wing, which was
on the
ground level. Above that was the training academy
,
and then Frost’s office sat on th
e top like a
wicked
q
ueen’s
watch
tower.

People stopp
ed to stare at us as the guards led us
through the ha
lls and into the side stairwell
, though I
thought
they were more surprised by seeing Paris in cuffs than me. At one point
,
they would have welcomed the
sight of seeing my wrists bound –
before I risked my life to save Mrs. Knight and proved myself as more of an ally a
nd not an enemy
. Now, the look in their eyes said, “Well,
that’s
no surprise. She is a vampire hunter, after all.”

I kept my eyes trained forward, too distracted by the escape plan forming in my mind to pay much attention to their stares. Maybe they would lock us up close enough to Orion for me to be able to procure a sample
of his blood
. Then maybe
Paris could fake being sick
,
and I could somehow manage to glamour all the guards and –

I groaned inwardly.
Sloane, these are terrible ideas. You barely managed to glamour one guard last time. What makes you think you can control five, ten, or however many they’re going to have down there?

Feeling anxious and agitated because I couldn’t do anything right now to help Aden, I blinked to adjust my eyes as we spilled into a darkened hallway.
The shadows were so thick I could hardly see anything. Vampires kind of had a thing for concealment. I knew from memory that c
ells lined the walls to our right
,
and
tiny
bulbs shot beams of yellowed light onto the floor, casting everyone’s faces in shadows as we passed under them.
There was something “off” about the air. Vampir
es tended to put out an almost telekinetic
hum, which I had grown used to since becoming one, but this was different. It smelled funny, like bleach and rusting metal.

It wa
s very faint, but there it was:
the metallic glint of light off the red bars of the cells.
A shudder rolled through me.

They’ve replaced all the bars with
Scarlet Steel
.

It must have
cost a fortune. I didn’t know exactly what chemicals went into m
aking Scarlet Steel, but I knew
it was an involved, costly process.

T
he gu
ards jerked me to a sudden halt, popping my wrists as they pulled back hard on my arms. A low growl rose in my throat, but I bit down on my lip, taming the instinct to punch them.

Rook walked a
ll the way down to the next-to-l
ast cell, where a ton of guards stood waiting, their weapons at the ready. I eyed the barrels of their guns warily, betting my life they were loaded with Scarlet Steel bullets.

Rook mumbled something to the guards on duty and waved us over. The two hol
ding onto me pushed me forward roughly
, and I felt the cuffs behind me loosen with a
click
right before I was shoved hard into the now open cell. I stumbled, barely managing to catch myself before I smacked into the cinder
block wall as they hurtled the door shut behind me and locked it.

The cell
door
next to mine rumbled as they did the same wit
h Paris, only they didn’t rough
house her quite so much. I guess they were afraid of messing up her manicure.

Without meaning to, I caught Rook’s eyes.

I didn’t know what I was hoping for. He had given no indication of wanting to help, of being anything other than a cold, trained soldier.
My breath caught as I held his gaze.

Please, Rook.

All the times we had hung out together as humans
came crashing through my mind: the
laughing, joking, and flat-out being there for one another
through thick and thin
.

For a moment, I thought maybe he was going to react, but then he blinked and I let out my breath in a downhearted rush. Without so much as a backward g
lance, he turned his back on me
and strode out of the room, leaving me feeling more alone than I had in a long time.

CHAPTER
4

I hated sitting in prison. Being forced into confined spaces with nothin
g to do had never set well
with me. There was always the itch
to be doing something, though I was definitely capable of my lazy moments.

They had held me
prisoner down here before, but this was ten times worse. I wanted to scream
or
hit something. All I could think a
bout was that Aden was upstairs
dying
while I was stuck down here, waiting on a Council that obviously didn’t care there was a potential epidemic on their hands.

“Stop pacing,” Paris said.
Two of the walls in my cell were made of bars, allowing me to clearly see her.
She sat cross-legged on the little metal bed in her cell, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. “You’re making
me
nervous.”

“We have to do something,” I said, biting my nails while I moved about like a tiger in a cage. “We can’t just sit here.”

“Well, it looks like you have no choice,” said a smooth, male voice.

My sneakers squeaked as I came to a sudden halt, frozen.

No. No, that voice, it can’t be…

Without wanting to, I looked around. There
were
nothing but black walls and a
plethora
of guards
, all
watching us so diligently
that
I didn’t even know if they were blinking.

“Over here, S
is
.”

The hair
on
my arms prick
ed upright as
I squinted at the wall. It seemed to be
speaking
to me.

That’s when I saw it – the flash of two red eyes as light reflected off them.

Eyes narrowing, I took a cautious step forward. “Orion?” I whispered.

I noticed a narrow slate had opened up
in the wall
, revealing a hidden room on the other side. Feeling my shoulders slacken now that I knew my brother wasn’t actually in
my cell
, I walked right up to the wall and peered through the gap.

A handsome
young man with the same caramel
-colored
skin as mine sat at a table eating a steak dinner.
Jagged scars twisted the s
kin around his neck and jawline
where
a
Rogue attacked and nearly killed him
a few years ago
.
His disheveled hair only made him look more striking, as did the pinstripe suit he wore. An ugly red splotch stained the front of his jacket, right where his heart would be.

Right where I shot him – and missed.

I frowned. Part of me was happy to see my brother alive. I mean, come
on
, he’s my twin
. But the fact he had been hell-
bent on killing Aden – and
every other vampire
– only a few hours earlier made me pause.

Blood gushed out of the steak, which might as well have been a
raw
chunk of cow, as
Orion
cut another slice off. He stuck
the dripping
square into his mouth, looking at me while he chewed with a big smirk on his face. Swallowing, he delicately reached up with his pressed linen napkin and dabbed at the streak of blood that had dribbled down his chin. “It’s good to see you
’re
looking well,” he said, dark eyes glittering. “Though I can’t say the same for our comrade, Captain Knight. Tell me, how is your beloved?”

“Go to hell,” I hissed, which only made him laugh.

“Hell couldn’t handle me,
s
weetheart,” he said, rising and tossing the napkin onto the now empty plate. He walked over to me, putting his hands in his pants pockets, with his thumbs hooked over the sides.

I suddenly wanted to spit on him, right in his eyes, but that seemed childish. “What are you doing here?” I asked tightly.

He glanced over his shoulder at the table. “It would appear I was having dinner.”