Page 33 of Wraithwound

Lena listened as the women pieced it together. The systematic disappearance of young women. More than two hundred in three years by Riley’s count. The secret activities of the Commander’s men, the true purpose of his healer and their collaboration with the High Priest. The only thing they didn’t understand was how the Aurynn were involved.

The information made Lena’s stomach turn as she recalled the Healer’s Organization’s involvement with Orvain. Was it possible Nora and the other leaders were working with them as well? She couldn’t get Nora’s request out of her mind.

Lena finally spoke when there was a lull in the conversation. “We need to find a way out of these cells.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Camille asked.

“Our best bet will be when someone comes to retrieve us,” Riley said. “As it stands, we have a better chance of success if the three of us can overpower whoever comes for us, but for you . . . when Vince comes for you, you have to fight.”

Dread coiled in Lena’s stomach as she accepted what she’d known all along. Exhaustion settled over her as the last of the adrenaline faded from the guard’s visit.

Silence fell over the women once more, and they eventually returned to the far wall and huddled together, taking turns sleeping. The sun continued to descend in the sky, shifting the light that filtered in through the bars above. Eventually, night fell. Vince still hadn’t returned for her, and Lena fell asleep, unable to fight the exhaustion any longer.

Lena jolted awake to belligerent screams at the cell door. Heart thumping in her chest, she looked around, her senses sharpening almost to the point of pain. Standing before her was Vince, and at her feet, a linen cloth reeking with a too sweet odor.

“Put it on your face, NOW!” he roared from his place in the narrow hall.

He appeared to be swaying slightly, the lantern in his hand splashing light on the walls. Lena cursed under her breath and stood.

“DO IT!” he screamed.

Lena looked down at the cloth, her mind racing. After a moment, she picked it up and threw it back at him. It landed a few feet away; the linen now covered in a layer of dirt. He slowly lifted the lantern to his face, now contorted in rage, the light illuminating the wicked cruelty that lay beneath. Fear made her limbs tingle, but she steeled herself because she was certain of one thing. The only way that cloth would end up on her face was if Vince entered the cell and forced it upon her.

“Fucking demon! When I ask you to do something, you DO IT!” he barked, words slurring.

It took him a moment to locate the correct key, but once he did, he plunged it into the lock and threw open the door. Vince stumbled into the cell and reached for his sword but paused. As if he’d just realized he still carried the lantern in his hand, he hurled it across the cell. It landed with a crash along the adjoining wall. Drawing his sword, Vince kicked the filthy cloth at Lena.

“Put it on your face,” he said again, each word clipped in warning. “You can arrive at the Commander’s office in one piece or two! I only need your head, girl.”

He blinked slowly, swaying in place. Lena realized he was drunk. Time. She just needed some time to think.

“You’re taking me to him now, in the middle of the night?” Lena ventured.

“I’m tired of waiting for him to summon me, waiting for when it’s convenient for him, especially since I’ve secured him such a prize. Put. It. On,” he said more quietly this time, lifting his sword. “DO IT!” he roared again when Lena didn’t move.

Just as she began to reach for the cloth, the flame inside the lantern winked out. Lena blinked in surprise; she could see with stunning clarity. And there, near the shattered lantern on the floor, was Laney crouched down on all fours.

“Close your eyes!” Laney shouted.

Burning the image of the cell into her mind, she slammed her eyes shut and crouched. Lena reached for the wall behind her, hoping to get a sense of where she was, the new skin of her fingertips stinging as it met the rough stone.

The ring of steel clanged through the air as it struck stone. Terror filled her as she realized Vince was swinging the sword wildly in the cramped space. She could only hope he was too drunk to use the sword with any accuracy.

Lena chanced a glance around the cell before diving out of the way as Vince swung the sword where he’d seen her golden eyes appear, but he had walked deeper into the cell. She would not get this opportunity again. Lena broke into a run, aiming for the exit, but even inebriated, Vince was fast.

He clamped his free hand onto her injured shoulder and yanked her back off her feet. Stars burst in her vision as they fell backward together. Landing in a semi-seated position, she both felt and heard Vince slam into the wall of bars behind them. She tried to climb off him, but Vince wrapped his forearm around her neck and pulled her back down. Lena gasped for air as he squeezed, trying desperately to wrench his arm off her neck or to scratch him, but she didn’t have any fingernails.

She thrashed, fighting both Vince and the despair that threatened to drown her, but it was useless. A choked sob escaped her throat as her strength drained. No, not like this. She couldn’t die in this dirty cell, alone and so far away from everything she loved.

But then, Vince was yanked back violently and she with him. Pained screams erupted from him, and his arm loosened around her throat. Lena slipped from underneath his grip and ran.

She made it just outside the cell before Vince caught her, and she crashed to ground once more. Lena flipped over, anticipating his attack, but realized he hadn’t caught up to her; he’d fallen. Laney, Riley, and Camille sat behind the barred wall, arms extended through the gaps, pulling at his feet and ankles. It was clear they’d been the ones to yank him backward a moment ago, causing him to release her.

Lena kicked at his hand as he reached for her. Despite their attempts, Vince wasn’t delayed for long. He crawled toward her, his face bordering on monstrous. Lena glanced at the angle of the cell door and then his head. If she timed it right⁠—

Using her arms to brace herself, Lena lifted both legs, summoning all of the strength she could muster, and slammed them into the door as Vince’s head reached the threshold. He tried to cover his face with his arms, but he couldn’t fend off the full weight of the door. Again and again, Lena kicked the door into Vince’s skull. She channeled all her fear and fury into her legs until his face was unrecognizable, bloody, and disfigured.

He didn’t get back up.