“Mosquito,” she says with a grimace, wiping her hand on her fatigues.
I eye her for a moment, retreating from her mind as Vásquez shifts his gaze back to me.
“It has been lovely chatting with you, Wren, but I’m afraid I must leave you now. You can spend some time here until we decide to contact your leader,” he says with a humorless smirk.
He nods at the woman, who follows him to the door. She glances over her shoulder at me, just briefly, before exiting the cell.
The metal door clangs shut. I hear what sounds like a padlock sliding into place. Not an electronic locking system, then. I know a lot of the sites on this continent are quite old, dating back centuries, and I wonder if this is an ancient dungeon, something that was used even before the Old Era.
But while the lock mechanism might be old, the security camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling is certainly not. I’m highly aware of that blinking red light.
I sit in the stifling humidity and try to ignore the relentlessthrobbing of my leg. I take small sips from the canteen they left me, trying to ration the water because I have no idea how long they’ll leave me in here. Then I set the canteen on the dirt and reach out to Adrienne.
“Darlington! Are you all right?”
“Sort of. I’m in a cell, but the commander just informed me he’s not going to kill me.”
“That’s noble of him.”She sounds amused.
“He says he wants to make you sweat, but they’ll release me eventually. Can you have a transport on standby? No idea when the asshole will decide he’s done toying with us.”
“Evlynne will stand by. I’d send Gray, but I don’t think he’s in the right state of mind.”
Guilt explodes inside me.“He’s angry?”
“I believe that’s what we call an understatement.”
Shit.
I wait. And wait. And wait some more.
Judging by the position of the sun beyond the window, about an hour has passed since the commander left me. The pain makes it difficult to concentrate, and it’s so damn hot in here. How do they live in this humidity?
I rest my back against the stone wall, letting out a tired breath as I look around the cell for the hundredth time.
On the hundred and first time, I notice the red light on the ceiling camera blink off.
Every muscle in my body coils tight.
Someone turned off the camera.
The dread rises when I hear footsteps beyond the door. It feels too soon for the commander’s mind games to be over, so I take a breath, expecting his scary ass to appear again.
Instead, it’s the dark-haired woman. She’s holding a small metal tray with a sandwich on it, and a pile of clothing under her arm.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she says.
I narrow my eyes. “I didn’t realize food delivery is in the captor job description.”
Leaving the clothes by the door, she crouches in front of me and holds out the tray. I catch a whiff of roast beef, and my stomach turns violently.
“No, sorry,” I say with a grimace. “I can’t eat. The pain in my leg is making me too nauseous.”
Nodding, she gets up and leaves the tray on the windowsill. A lot of good that’ll do me. Even if I got hungry, I wouldn’t be able to stand on this broken leg. I can barely even sit on it. I gave up on trying to find a comfortable position about an hour ago.
She’s about to duck out the door when I say, “You felt it.”
Her head turns slightly.
