“Oh, that was a terrible innuendo and utterly repulsive,” I chided.
Bishop laughed brightly. “I was talking about feeding you. What did you think I meant?”
I snorted. “Sure you were.” I shot back the cognac—a move nearly as repulsive as his offer—and set the glass down on a side table.
He frowned at the waste of fantastic cognac and his voice went crisp, “There are two options, Amanda. You could cooperate, in which case I'd treat you with the utmost respect and house you here in the lap of luxury. I'd take a few doses from you and then perhaps we could come to another arrangement.” He looked me over pointedly, just in case I needed a clue as to what his idea of an arrangement was.
“Are you just reading lines from the sleazy villain's playbook?” I asked.
Bishop laughed again. “Or,” he went on, “I could put you in less comfortable quarters and forcefully take your magic.”
“So, I either whore myself to you for a fancy cage or you put me in some kind of dungeon?”
He smiled viciously. “That about covers it.”
“Right.” I stood up.
The men behind me went for their guns, but I only held my hands out to them. In front of me this time. Bishop hadn't moved, just continued to watch me.
“Take me to the dungeon, boys,” I said to the guards.
They looked at Bishop. Bishop nodded.
The guards replaced my handcuffs.
“I'll see you in a few days, Amanda,” Bishop promised with a smug grin. “That should be long enough to make you reconsider.”
I just smiled back at him. Let him think I was powerless and fragile. He had no idea that I'd be gone by morning.
“Take her to level C,” Bishop said.
“Level C, Sir?” one of the guards asked in surprise, his eyes wide with horror.
“C,” Bishop repeated gleefully.
The guards escorted me away, their jaws clenching. Oh, that didn't bode well.
Chapter Twenty-One
I was taken out of Bishop's mansion and driven to one of the more industrial buildings on the island. I'd seen no evidence of military equipment or weaponry on the island, but inside the warehouse, heavy artillery hung from the ceiling. A group of men monitored the empty floor from a room perched high on the far wall—a guard tower.
“Incoming for level C,” one of my guards said.
“Lift opening,” a voice came through a speaker hanging beneath the guard tower and one of the men there gave us a thumb's up.
A hatch in the center of the floor slid apart, the two sides disappearing beneath the cement, and a cage elevator rose from the hole. The men led me forward and into the cage. My heart raced. Where were my men? My team? My damn magic? Was Malik and Braxis somewhere over the sea, trying to find me? I sought calm; this wasn't the first time I'd been taken by some nefarious criminal or even the first time I'd been imprisoned underground. I'd get through this.
Then we descended, the hatch closing over us to send us into utter darkness. Lights came on, illuminating a cement shaft that smelled of unwashed men and saltwater. We went down three levels and stopped. A metal gate stood before us, painted with a C. The gate slid to the side and the sound of snarls, yips, and growls hit me. Were they imprisoning me with animals? Had that bastard sent me down there to be caged with his research animals? Was I getting thrown into a kennel? Bishop must have a seriously low opinion of women if he thought that a bunch of snapping dogs and yipping chimps would scare me. The men pulled me forward by my forearms and led me down a corridor of prison cells. I stared around myself in horror.
It was so much worse than animals.
Cells lined the walls of the massive space and ran in rows across the center. Behind the bars were supernaturals. I saw Ungaru, Nagas, shapeshifters of all kinds, and even a Bhaturan. Many of them were Transformed or Evolved, without any obvious clues to their abilities, but the way they watched me walk by, with vicious grins and sharp stares, told me that they all had one trait in common—brutality.
This was a fucking supe prison. The criminals had been taken from here. Bishop's victims were locked up—like a vending machine for him to choose magic from. Did the Chinese Government know about this prison? They had to. How else could there be so many prisoners? But many of the inmates were aliens and, as I mentioned before, world governments don't imprison aliens. It simply wasn't done. It would be like a toddler waving a red flag at a bull. So maybe this was a private prison. Unless the Chinese Government knew about it but was keeping it hidden. Maybe it was here for the sole purpose of draining the prisoners of their magic. But if so, why was Bishop there? Why bring in an American to run a prison in China?
I was taken past numerous cells of leering men until we reached an empty one against the wall. The guards unlocked my handcuffs, then pushed me inside. It was basic but not horrible—a metal bed, a sink, and a toilet. There were even partitions to either side of the toilet to allow for some privacy from my neighbors, though the front was open, giving the guy across the aisle a perfect view. I turned to face the guards as the barred door slid shut on its own, a whirring sound and a click announcing its automation. One of the guards looked at me with a flicker of sympathy, then they walked away.
As soon as the sound of the elevator started, the entire floor went silent. The silence was even eerier than the earlier rumblings. I mentally replayed what I'd seen on my way in... violent looking supes of all sorts. Wings, claws, fur, scales, teeth. I'd even seen a Fury—a winged race known for going ballistic at the drop of a hat. Then I realized what was wrong. Men. They were all male. And they were now focused on me.
